Black Butler Novel: His Butler And The Origins Of A Demon
by Tower of Babel
Summary: Who is Sebastian Michaelis? Who was he before he became a demon? When a mysterious spirit forces Sebastian to relive his past, a new threat drives towards Ciel and Lukas Phantomhive and a powerful enemy from Sebastian's past returns determined to settle a long standing score! More secrets from the Phantomhive's are revealed and revelations realized. Sequel to HBWTM.
1. Christmas Quarrel

**CHAPTER 1 - "CHRISTMAS QUARREL"**

"You are being unreasonable, brother," Lukas said, as a small bump in the road shook the carriage the pair were riding in, as Sebastian rode it through the cobblestone streets of London. They were returning home from an afternoon of shopping. The Christmas season was upon them and gifts were the status quo.

Ciel did not answer. He sat proper in his seat opposite Lukas, his eyes closed in an apparent retrospective moment. He often shut himself out of the world if things did not immediately concern him and Christmas was no exception. His 13th birthday had already past, but this season brought back old, bad memories. Three years priors on December 14, 1885, Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive were murdered in a still unanswerable mystery that contained many facets. Scotland Yard kept the case open, but the trail had run cold and Lukas could not provide anymore information of his involvement, only that he and other children, under Bryon Kelvin's brainwashed influence, had set fire to the Phantomhive mansion.

And while Lukas did not have a vivid recollection of his parents, he had his own haunted memories of this time of year. He had been stolen away, his parents told that he had died during a surgery that would fix a deformity in his face and then brainwashed and trained as an assassin and forced to commit unspeakable crimes, including from what he was able to piece together, murdering his own uncle Chlaus Phantomhive because Bryon Kelvin had wanted everyone associated with his father's "Aristocrats of Evil" eliminated. Ciel had forgiven Lukas for everything because he was not in his right mind at the time when the acts were committed, but it did not abstain the guilt.

Since their reunion only months back, Lukas had tried to help Ciel open up, to cease with his anti-altruistic authoritiveness, but Ciel refused to concede. In fact, Ciel had fallen deeper into himself. He did not laugh and he did not smile, and Lukas did not know if he could change his brother from the person he had become accustomed to be for the last two years. But he refused to concede himself. _He_ was just as stubborn.

"The holiday's is a time for family and I have not had a _true_ family in over seven years, I wish this Christmas to be something special," he continued. "All I ask is for the mansion to express a little holiday sentimentality and cheer with a few decorations."

Another bump. Ciel kept his eyes closed, the right eye covered with an eye patch to conceal the demonic covenant between himself and Sebastian, his butler. On the night of a secret ceremony arranged by members of the Inner Circle, a group of men with their own agenda to usurp the Crown from the British monarchy, Ciel had brokered into a Faustian contract with Sebastian if he would kill everyone who did him wrong. On that night, all but five members of the Inner Circle were slaughtered by a demon who came through a gateway that the Inner Circle opened, sacrificing children to a demonic entity for secrets of the universe. In exchange, Ciel promised the demon his soul. And In the last two years, they had succinctly gone through a serial of men who had associations with the Inner Circle including a group of Fallen Reapers, Reapers who had fallen from grace, which during these recent events, brought Ciel and Lukas back together.

But there are still more individuals out there who wronged the Phantomhive family, Lukas knew, and Lukas had willingly joined in his brother's plight to find these people and make them pay, including Bryon Kelvin, who remained elusive and in hiding.

However, once everything was done, Sebastian would take Ciel's soul, and devour it like a dog with a bone. And this was the sad thing of it. Lukas would lose his brother.

"And your repeated askance have been denied, as thus will this one will be," Ciel answered, looking.

Lukas narrowed his eyes smugly. "A duel then? Too see who decides. It is my home as well." Ciel rolled his left eye in annoyance, but did not say anything. "Indeed, another gentleman's game, perhaps? But without the violence of pistols. Chess? Or would you prefer Old Maid?" Lukas chuckled.

"You mock me, Lukas."

"Just some light-hearted humor, dear brother. You should really learn to smile more, Ciel. Life need not be all frowns and sorrow. Life is for living, and I have reclaimed mine. So I am happy."

But Ciel remained straight-faced.

It took about twenty minutes across open country to reach the mansion, and when Sebastian pulled the carriage up to the front entrance of the Phantomhive mansion, another carriage was already parked in the turnaround with its driver caring for the horses. Sebastian acknowledged the man and hoped off the seat, opening the door to the carriage for Ciel and Lukas.

"What is _she_ doing here?" Ciel asked of Elizabeth's carriage. Lukas smiled, he always liked Lizzie's company, even if Ciel found her rather childish and obtrusive at times.

"Does she need an invitation, my lord?" Sebastian remarked. "She is your fiancée."

Ciel slipped something into his pocket, a small, wrapped box, that he had purchased for Elizabeth, as Lukas stepped out of the carriage after him.

"I will put away the carriage and see to the horses while you two greet Lady Elizabeth," Sebastian said as a father would order his son to obey his instructions.

Ciel took offense to this _order_, but didn't express a retort. Instead, he and Lukas entered the main vestibule and was immediately greeted to - in Ciel's eyes a horrid sight, but in Lukas's eyes a glorious one. The entire mansion was decorated with Christmas decorations and three musicians stood in the main hall next the main staircase with violins, playing classical music of an appropriate, seasonal nature. There were also other men busying themselves putting up more decorations, even a large Christmas tree set in the corner.

Ciel's eyes widen with utter shock.

Lukas smiled. "Impressive," he said. "She must really love you to go to all this trouble. I like it."

Ciel attempted a reply, but all he could do was stutter his shock. "M-my mansion!"

Elizabeth had done something like this before, beautifying the mansion during a visit months back. Lukas had only heard of it, unfortunately attending a scheduled appointment in town after Ciel and Sebastian had dropped him off. Most recently Ciel had allowed him more responsibility when it came to the family business - _Funtom Co. _- and Lukas was setting up a new distribution market in Spain for their toys on that day and the next. He had heard that the entire mansion was pink and Lizzie had dressed up all the servants in pretty costumes. It made him laugh every time he thought about it. Regardless of the odd beginnings of their day, he also heard that Ciel and Lizzie had a very pleasant evening, dancing the night away.

"Cielllllllllll!" came an excited streak from the second, smaller vestibule abroad, and Lizzie can running out with her hands stretched out wide. "And Lukas! You are finally here!"

She hugged them both. She was stronger then she looked, folding them both into the other like an accordion as she squeezed with loving embrace.

"Lizzie…I…can't…breath!" Ciel mouthed breathlessly.

She let go. Ciel inhaled a large breath, even Lukas inhaled a breath. She obviously did not know her own strength, and Lukas would hate to see her angry.

"This is wonderful, Lizzie," he said, and then gave Ciel a sideways glance. But he found Ciel looking somewhat disappointed, frowning. "Brother? What's wrong?"

"Don't you like what I did, Ciel?" Lizzie asked.

"Change it back _now_!"

Ciel's tone was very harsh. "Ciel, don't be rude!" Lukas chided. "She put a great deal of effort into - "

"I will not have my mansion looking like a circus!"

"Circus?" Lukas and Lizzie both said in unison. The violins stopped.

"_Your_ mansion, brother?" Lukas said.

"Yes!"

Lukas eyed Ciel with abhor, but he maintained his composure. "I see. So, even after being reunited, you still hold true to your convictions of a single heir. You're unwavering, unstoic and stubborn!"

It was then Elizabeth began to cry, but Ciel seemed indifferent to her tears especially when they were in the privacy of the mansion where none of the social masses could see their tiff. "I have told you before, Elizabeth," using her given name and not her nickname of Lizzie, "and my reasons are sound."

"And what are you reasons?" Lukas demanded.

Ciel gave him a glare of annoyance. "Keep the holidays in your own way and I will keep them in mine." Sebastian had just returned from minding the stable and only caught the last part of their conversion, coming to the main vestibule from a rear alcove. Ciel had obviously seen him. "Sebastian, I will be in my chambers. See to it that everything is removed and returned back in order."

Sebastian looked at the decorations briefly, then at Elizabeth and Lukas in a semi-look of surprise. But he could not disobey an order from his master. Sebastian bowed, "Yes, my lord," as Ciel climbed the staircase.

When Ciel disappeared onto the second floor, Sebastian turned to the pair. "Explain to me what this argument was about this time, Master Lukas," he asked.

Ciel and Lukas were always having a difference of opinion.

They were fraternal twins who looked near identical due to Lukas having plastic surgery when he was younger to correct the deformity of his face. The surgery was successful, but it was not without a high cost, costing Lukas seven years without his brother, kidnapped by Bryon Kelvin and forced to do his will through brainwashing and manipulation. Lukas was able to escape, but it had been a rouse by the nephew of Bryon Kelvin to lure Sebastian into a trap, so Fallen Reapers, possessing human bodies, including Mathu Kelvin, could extract _chemical_ information from Lukas's brain from years long past, that somehow Lukas possessed and the Fallen Reapers knew he had, that would restore their real bodies taken away from them by the Reaper High Council because they chose to defy the higher establishment. How Lukas had this information was still a mystery, which Sebastian _now_ had. It was a form of chemical transference from person to person, and Lukas was apparently the only individual left alive who _had_ possessed it.

In the battle for supremacy, the Fallen Reapers lost, but it left Lukas's face scarred, and a two inch long gash ran diagonal over his left eye, eye brow and cheek, although not impeding any vision. Before hand, he looked like Ciel if he did not have the eye patch. But Lukas didn't feel any self-consciousness about the scar. In fact, it added character to his face - for a thirteen year old. A battle scar.

Lukas supposed Ciel had grown accustomed to being the last of his family line, and when that changed, perhaps he felt cheated, and didn't want to share the power he had so greatly mustered alone? Therefore, hence the arguments the two continuously had on almost any issue or topic that they felt split on. Ciel wanted to keep all the power he had collected.

But Lukas didn't want Ciel's power. All he wanted was his brother and to be part of a real family again.

"Ciel is being mean again," Lizzie said, sniffing and wiping tears from her eyes. Sebastian pulled out a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and gave it to Elizabeth. She blew her nose. "Ever since he has returned from his ordeal three years ago and the death of his parents, he has not celebrated Christmas."

"There is a reason," Sebastian said. "Nor has the master organized any lavish parties and invited any of his parents' guests for the holiday's; the social elite have not been surprised after what Master Ciel has gone through, but it does hurt his social standing. Christmas is very close to his birthday when - "

"We must change that, and I will," Lukas said quickly, to stop Sebastian from saying anymore about Ciel's ordeal - it's _trueness_ that Lizzie didn't know. All that she was aware of was about the fire, not of Ciel's torture or near-death experience by the Inner Circle. "I will ignite the family flame again for the holiday's. Ciel once said to me, to stop living in the past and live for the present, and I agree. But I am concerned for him."

"Indeed. I have observed Master Ciel has begun to withdraw from the public and is spending a lot of time in his private chambers."

"Yes, it is a rarity that he frequents the dining room these days."

"Notwithstanding, it is around this time, he becomes melancholy."

Both Lukas and Lizzie seemed to understand without it being said. December 14th was Ciel's birthday and on that day, on his tenth birthday, Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive were murdered and Ciel was taken, tortured, and then later returned a completely different person. Lizzie had mentioned his smile was gone, and until the Phantomhive mansion was rebuilt, he had stayed with her, accompanied by Sebastian.

The guilt of what happened still haunted Lukas, and all he knew was he had been apart of his brother's life changing. It would be something he would carry for the rest of his life despite not being of sound-mind when it occurred. He did not remember anything other than he and others had set fire to the mansion; others he did not know names of or faces to place them. But who had killed Vincent and Rachael Phantomhive still remained a mystery, and he was of strong-mind that it was Bryon Kelvin or someone associated with him.

"I will speak with him," Lukas said smiling sweetly at Lizzie, assuring her in a calm voice. "Do not fret. My brother may be a cad sometimes, but he does care for you." He hoped. "And if he ever did you wrong, if you would allow me the honor, I hope you would do me the privilege in accordance to our families' covenant, to be my wife - " He slapped his hands over his mouth and his face flushed with embarrassment. He lifted them to say, "Please, forgive me! I did not infer -"

Lizzie's eyes widened with shock, but then they softened with a smile quickly. "That is sweet, Lukas. But I am Ciel's fiancée. I am sure you will find a lovely girl to ask to marry you."

Lukas gulped. "Please forgive me, Elizabeth."

She laughed. "I am not offended, Lukas. I know that if Ciel does not want me, it would fall upon you to do honor by your station and become my fiancée. That is how it works."

"T-that is all I meant, E-Elizabeth," he stuttered. "I never meant to insinuate that I was interested in you." He slapped a hand over his mouth and felt his face flush with embarrassment once more. Now he felt he had just insulted her that he didn't like her. He looked to Sebastian, his eyes widened in a signal for help.

Sebastian smiled thinly. "I believe the young master is only trying to say, Master Ciel enjoys your company as well, Ms. Elizabeth."

Lukas nodded quickly, lowering his hand.

"I know he does, even though he often doesn't show it." She looked around the main vestibule. "I hope Ciel changes his mind about the decorations. But I must be off. I have lot of shopping to do."

She gave Lukas a little peck on the cheek, and then with her maid servant Paula, left.

"My word, that was embarrassing," he said.

"May I inquire, have you developed a crush on Lady Elizabeth, Master Lukas? I have observed you eye her fondly whenever she is around. Or am I mistaken in my observations?"

Lukas gulped. "Y-you are mistaken, Sebastian," he stuttered his words somewhat. He looked at the tall, posh butler. "But I won't tell if you won't? Ciel would be jealous."

Sebastian smiled, tilting his head slightly to the left. "Of course, sir. My lips are sealed."

**To be continued…**


	2. The Trickster Caught

**CHAPTER 2 - "THE TRICKSTER CAUGHT"**

"Forgive me, my lord, but I am unfamiliar with this story," Sebastian said.

Sebastian had followed Lukas down to the basement storage area and watched as the master rummaged through a pile of items Ciel had collected over the years that had apparently been forgotten. Lukas said he was after a few specific things that would give him purchase to make Ciel to change his "miser" ways.

Even Sebastian was astonished at just how much Ciel had collected in their time together, that even _he_ had forgotten about. In fact, he could say that the basement was nearly full of junk. However, there was a saying that one man's junk is another man's treasure, but by the level of dust, in Sebastian's eyes, it was _all_ junk!

"The premise, Sebastian…" Lukas struggled in a tiny alcove to reach what he wanted, pulling out a length of rope, "is simple. I intend in duplicating the story written by the author Charles Dickens about an aging, stickler miser who detaches himself from his fellow man because he feels society itself has befallen _him_. In creating a ghostly atmosphere with smoke and mirrors, I want to draw the old Ciel out. The happy Ciel."

Sebastian held up an old table cloth that will eventually be cut with eye sockets, looking at it skeptically, to make believe to be a ghostly phantom. "But how will frightening your brother out of his melancholy during this time of year help him? I normally find to scare someone has the opposite affect."

Lukas coughed, stirring up some dust. "When was the last time this basement was cleaned?"

"Forgive me, sir, but your brother doesn't leave me much time for gratuities, I am very busy with cleaning above ground levels."

Lukas nodded. "A lot of this stuff can be thrown out if it has collected this much dust."

"You may want to ask your brother for permission as all this is all his he has accumulated over the years." Sebastian put down the bed sheet on a stack of dusty boxes, dusting his gloves off. "Frankly, I find it junk."

Lukas smirked. "Well, not everything here is junk." He dragged out a large and heavy portrait of his parents from a half-moon alcove. Ciel was in it, smiling, and was without the eye patch, sitting proudly in front of Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive. Obviously this family image had been painted before their parent's murder and Ciel's torturous ordeal. It was a reproduction of an original, Lukas knew, because everything had burned in the fire that took the original Phantomhive mansion.

"Your brother had that taken down only months before you arrived, my lord. He felt it brought back bad memories, as he, at the time, was the sole heir and head of the Phantomhive family."

"I would like it hung in my bedchambers if possible. Perhaps it will remind me of happier times."

Sebastian bowed. "I will instruct the servants to do so," the butler said. "Now, to further inquire about the story. Did it work?"

"Did the spirits succeed in making Ebenezer Scrooge change his miserable ways, do you mean? Well, not at first. It took the _Ghost of Christmas Future _to show him the true meaning of his ways - death - and henceforth, Christmas morning, he was a new man. _The Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present _were only a prelude to his fate if he did not change. His past he could not change, but the present was accumulative." Lukas rummaged through another cramped corner of the basement, kicking up dust. "Basically," his voice a little muffled, "the story relays to the reader that there's still good in all off us, even if we have been stuck in our ways for a long time, or have lost our way. Scrooge reminds me of Ciel."

"And where did you come by this story?"

"I remember reading it when I was with…" He stopped himself, he was about to call Bryon Kelvin _father_, "with _him_, and I spent a lot of my free time, when I wasn't killing people or obeying _his_ orders, reading. I've come to believe that it may have helped me break free of my programming, that it helped trigger a sense of morality that I was lacking then." Lukas came back out into the open, dusting himself off. "But that is only supposition. I am not absolutely positive what helped me break free of Bryon Kelvin's grasp."

"You are a strong-willed individual, my lord. This I have observed since you have come to live us with, and I am honored to serve you."

Lukas nodded. "You are also my friend, Sebastian. Please don't forget that."

Sebastian smiled. "I have made a few friends since the covenant was made with your brother. He is elsewhere at the moment - you have not met him yet, but I know you will someday - but Prince Soma Asman Kadar of Bengal, India, and his man-servant Agni, also consider me a friend. Your brother and I came by their acquaintance purely by accident when we were on traveling through the East End of London filled with desolate Indian immigrants who demanded we pay for passage through. They attempted to curry us in a battle, but the fates were in our favor that day, and the Prince sided with us against his own people. The events afterward were exhausting, I must say. He invited himself to the mansion and took up residence as payment for his kindness. We were told, he had come to England to search for his maidservant Menna, who vanished but later admitted she had had enough of Prince Somo's selfish ways. Events ensued, and your brother battled Agni for a Royal Warrant in a Curry contest, for which I won, and judged by Her Royal Highness, Queen Victoria. The Prince was an arrogant, self-absorbed young child, age 17. Suffice it to say, in the end, even a child, like a dog, can learn new tricks, and he left with a new outlook in life."

Lukas chuckled. "I wonder where I was doing all this comical happenstance, more business affairs, I imagine. My brother has me swamped with _Funtom Co_. He believes I have a very savvy business nature."

"As do I, my lord. Your efforts have entered _Funtom Co_. into a multitude of different merchandise markets, and I know for a fact, that your brother is very pleased."

Lukas frowned. "He doesn't show it to me. In fact, he makes it a point to indicate what needs improving, as if grading me like some sort of school child. It infuriates me!"

Sebastian smiled. "I must say, that you have indeed helped _me_, Master Lukas. In the past, I was your brother's sole business adviser and marketer. You have taken that task off my shoulders. And _I_ thank you."

"If I have alleviated you of this burden, then why is this basement such a mess?"

Lukas stood straight, eying Sebastian with a straight face. Sebastian appeared taken aback. Then Lukas smiled, before Sebastian could respond. "As you have come to know, I am blessed with a sense of humor unlike my brother. I know this place will find cleansing in due time."

Sebastian bowed shortly. "Indeed." Sebastian put a hand to his chin, curling a finger, a momentary muse. "Master Lukas, may I try my hand at what you impose? I may be able to 'scare' your brother more efficiently than tricks with smoke and mirrors. But I will be kind. I remember once, your brother had a nightmare after he read poetry sonnets from Edgar Allan Poe - the _Tell-Tale Heart _and_ The Raven._ He awoke in quite a fright. Perhaps I can generate similar imaginary in his dreams and also incorporate similes of fright to 'alter' your brother's ideals about this holiday season."

Lukas put a hand to his face in abashment. "Why am I such a fool? Why didn't I consider this? You can craft a much better 'nightmare' than all these things I have found. You have been entering my dreams on a frequent nightly bases to help restore some of my lost memories; I thank you. Perhaps, this method can be used to also help my brother, better than all of this _junk._" He gestured to the rope, mirrors and other items he had pulled out to enact his wicked performance of _The Christmas Carol _on Ciel. "Be my guest, Sebastian. But don't be _that_ kind." A sinister, crooked, but playful smile crept onto Lukas's face.

"I shall endeavor to do my best, sir. And it will be my pleasure."

Knowing a little fright might just be a good dose of medicine for his master for the childish way he has been acting.

* * *

That night, when the entire household was asleep, Sebastian walked quietly into Ciel's bed chambers. He was a demon, so he rarely slept. On occasion, he did need nourishment and rest to regenerate himself without gorging himself on a soul - since he was saving that pleasure for when he was able to throw off this butler creed and partake in his master's soul. But that would only happen after the covenant was complete, until all those that did Ciel Phantomhive wrong were punished. Until then, he had human food.

As the days rolled on, Sebastian grew hungrier, but he knew when the day finally arrived, his master's soul would taste ever more sweeter. The best things were those that you waited for.

What he and Master Lukas had concocted, to frighten Ciel, was a variance on _the Christmas Carol_ story. Sebastian had planned out what he supposed to do to Ciel, but Lukas had some input and suggested he read the Charles Dickens story to fully understand the message of the author. While it partook more to a religious meaning - that there was 'good' in everyone - Sebastian would heed to own methods of fright.

In educating himself on the human mind, he found in a dream state, everything appeared _absolutely_ real to a person, and could, if intense enough, harm them physically, even if it was _merely_ a mental experience. Perspective was everything to a human, what they _think_ they knew didn't necessarily mean it was real, in the case of Lukas Phantomhive, of whom which with the help of the Undertaker, was able to dwell into his own past, forgotten, brought on by amnesia, viewing his cinematic record, to watch his parents, seemingly, cast him afar because of his plain-face, then was glad when an opportunity arose to correct a secondary deformity brought on by a bad reaction to asthma medicine that was not his to take. He soon realized that his parents only wanted to grant him a chance at life, as those with deformities were seen as outcasts. It was tragic that further events unfolded that then took Lukas away from his family for seven long years.

But that was the past and this was the present. He was a butler with two masters, but he didn't mind. His covenant with Ciel Phantomhive held true and even after he devoured Ciel's soul, he could have desert in the form of Lukas Phantomhive, as he had no contract with him. It was the perfect situation. He was a demon, he devoured souls, and to gorging himself on two souls of the same family will be delightful!

Sebastian crept to stand next to Ciel's king-sized bed. The bed was much too large for the small thirteen-year old, but perhaps that was the point. Ciel saw himself as head of the Phantomhive household, in spite of Lukas's return, and indeed, it was symbolic of its nature.

Sebastian pulled off his right, white glove, and hovered his hand above his master's head.

Ciel was sleeping sounding on his right side, curled up against his favorite pillow, if persa, snuggling with it. In fact, he couldn't sleep without it. It was much like a safety blanket to a scared child. Sebastian didn't know the attachment Ciel had with the pillow, but it seemed to put him directly to sleep like a sleep tonic would an insomniac.

But before he could begin, he sensed something different…

"What do you think you are doing?" the boy demanded, his eyes still closed. He then turned over, looking at the butler, demanding an answer. "Well?"

Sebastian's eyes widen with surprise. "My lord, I thought you were sleeping. You looked so relaxed, snuggled up to your pillow."

"I was not snuggling!" Ciel protected defensively, as if the mere idea was embarrassing. "And this gives your just cause to enter my bed cambers without permission? What were you going to do? Have you decided your hunger for my soul is much too strong to stand anymore?"

Ciel's right eye glowered, as his anger fueled the covenant embedded in it.

"Perish the thought, my lord. Our covenant still stands true. I sensed a disturbance in your sleep and I was checking up on you," Sebastian lied.

"A disturbance? What kind of disturbance?"

"A nightmare, sir. Much like you had after you read the Edgar Allen Poe poems."

Ciel's eyes narrowed. "I see. Is our covenant that strong that you can now read my thoughts?"

"No, my lord."

"Then why are you lying to me?"

Sebastian sighed, lying was not his virtue. "Forgive my deception, my lord. In truth, I came here to scare you."

Ciel quickly sat up. "What in God's name for?!"

Sebastian laid out the entire 'plan' devised by Lukas, that he asked Sebastian to frighten Ciel into changing his mind to keeping the Christmas decorations and to become a happier person.

Ciel scowled.

"Please forgive your brother, my lord, but he only wants to - "

"I don't give a damn what he wants! This reinforces my conviction of abolishing Christmas from this household forever!"

"But sir, what about Lady Elizabeth? She so enjoys this season."

Ciel gazed over to the small gift box on the table next to the right side of his bed that he purchased the other day. He had hoped to invite her to the mansion on his own terms to give it to her, but now this deception by his brother infuriated him about the whole gift-given season. It would have to wait.

He glared at Sebastian. "If Lukas thinks he can trick me into giving him everything he desires, let us turn the tables on him, attune to his own medicine."

"Not to question the young master, but would that be wise, sir? Your brother's mind is already fragile with what he has gone through sustained by Bryon Kelvin."

Ciel nodded, but didn't seem to care. "Indeed, but this trickery can not go unchallenged."

"Unchallenged, my lord? Your brother did not mean any malicious intent."

"And neither do I, however - "

"With all due respect - you are the heir to the Phantomhive family, my lord. In this childish notation of abolishing Christmas because of acerbic feelings about the past, you are critically damaging your reputation in social circles. A person of your status should be seen attending social events to improve your image."

"Are you quite finished?"

"My lord?"

"I see that some of the pugnacious nature of my brother's influence has befallen you. Your job is not to question my orders but to follow them without vacillation, is that clear? Do _not_ argue with _me_!"

Sebastian found himself taking a mental step backwards. In all his years, he had never been frightened of anything, especially a human, but Ciel Phantomhive was no mere human - the venom he possessed in his revenge seeking heart had originally drawn Sebastian, as he lain near death, about to be sacrificed by a secret group of men who called themselves the Inner Circle, wanting to call upon a demonic entity to seek secrets of the universe. But he found it amusing that Ciel Phantomhive had no fear of him whatsoever.

He crossed an arm across his chest and bowed. "Your wish is my desire, my lord," he said to humor the boy. "Forgive my impertinence. I shall indeed follow _your_ orders, as my master…until the end."

"See that you do. Now, as for my brother's scare… What I wish is what you intended for me, but with a twist. Instead of acting like Jacob Marley and have Scrooge change his ways, I want you to scare Lukas and bring him over to _my_ way of thinking - that Christmas is indeed a _humbug_."

Sebastian frowned.

"Is something wrong with that?"

"Without arguing, my lord. Your brother only wishes to enjoy the holiday with you in this gayful season. While I am your servant and as long as you hold the covenant, I will, on occasion, express my opinion on issues for which I disagree with you, albeit within our contract. And this is one of those times. I do not recommend this, it may do irreversible damage to your brother's mind."

"I will take that under advisement. In the meantime, use your imagination."

Sebastian sighed, knowing he had lost. "Is this an order, my lord?"

"Need it be?" Sebastian looked at Ciel straight-faced; Ciel tilted his head slightly, as if he would need to make it an order. "Make it one, notwithstanding."

**To be continued…**


	3. The Guardian

**_CHAPTER 3 - "THE GUARDIAN"_**

If a demon could feel regret, it was the first time that Sebastian could recall in his existence that he was feeling it.

He was ordered to scare Master Lukas in Lukas's attempt to frighten his brother to change his "miser" ways and allow Christmas to be celebrated at the mansion, and after the way Ciel had treated Lady Elizabeth, Sebastian tended to agree - that a little "scaring" would be good medicine for his master.

But in Ciel's astringent way, he not only banned Christmas taking offense to his brother's trickery, but also used the covenant to _order _Sebastian to frighten Lukas and to bring him over to Ciel way of thinking - that Christmas was a humbug!

Sebastian vowed that he would not terrify the boy, just scare him enough to put a fright in him, so when he awoke, the nightmare would still be vivid in his mind and it would prove that he had followed his master's orders to a mild degree, no matter how wrong it felt to do so.

He had spent the last couple of months helping Lukas deal with the chaos in his mind, visiting the boy almost nightly when he slept, entering into his mind, attempting recovering lost memories from his past -with Lukas's permission. It had not been easy, but some memories _had_ resurfaced, and others were appearing more difficult to harvest - like whom were associated with Bryon Kelvin in his devious plans. But little by little, the boy's past was beginning to come to light.

Even the memories of when Lukas was ordered to kill Vincent Phantomhive's closest friends. However, due to its sensitive nature, both agreed to keep this particular memory to themselves for now.

As Sebastian stood next to Lukas's bed, he compared Lukas's bed to that of his Ciel's. It wasn't as extravagantly large bed like his brother - it was a double-size bed, a modest-sized bed.

Lukas didn't want a large bed, like something that boosted Ciel's ego, and considering Lukas's bed chambers wasn't as large as Ciel's, it was a converted visitor's quarters room, it opted for a small bed. So after construction efforts were undertaken when the Fallen Reaper's were defeated, a good deal of the mansion had been damaged during their vicious onslaught, Sebastian made the suggestion that Lukas's new quarters be expanded to accommodate his new standing in the household. Therefore, a second visitor's quarters next door was opened up, the wall knocked down, and Lukas's bed chambers was not only expanded, but it also gave him additional space to house a chest of drawers, closets, and other items.

It was the least he could do to thank Lukas for use of the Trident medallion, given to him by the Undertaker, that eventually helped defeat Mathu Kelvin, possessed by a Fallen Reaper - pulled down to Hell for Kelvin's transgressions against both his master's.

Ciel had agreed to the expansion without argument, but it still didn't stop the bitter feelings of resentment Sebastian knew Ciel had towards Lukas.

Sibling rivalry or something else? Sebastian thought.

But Ciel and Lukas continued to argue over the simplest thing, as if trying to one-upmanship the other. They both had different, but dominating personalities that Sebastian thought intriguing, and after everything Lukas had experienced, Sebastian thought _he_ would be the more bitter one. But perhaps it was the idea that, even after Ciel got his revenge on everyone who did his family wrong, Ciel would die much like they did, and that his soul would be devoured as if it meant nothing. So perhaps his bitterness and resentment was his way of _acting out _his displeasure of the situation and to hide behind a façade of fear.

But that didn't concern Sebastian. Ciel Phantomhive had made his choice, and it was a contract Sebastian could not wait to cash in on. All that bitterness will be a very delicious meal.

Lukas Phantomhive slept sounding in his bed, huddled under the covers, clutching and cuddling up to a stuffed animal that he had only recently taken to sleeping with - "Bitter Rabbit", one of _Funtom Co._ most popular toy lines. It was basically a white colored rabbit with an eye-patch over its right eye. It reminded Sebastian of Ciel Phantomhive, not only due to its appearance but by its symbolic nature.

Ciel Phantomhive was a very bitter, little boy, and to emphasis that in a toy, really proved just how childish he was, and beneath his so-called stringent façade he _was_ a scare, little boy. And this is what Sebastian enjoyed. Fear, angry, bitterness, and hatred. All those lovely emotions flavoring a soul for him to devour.

Perhaps Lukas taking to this toy also illustrated the wanting of Lukas to be with his family, as if hugging Bitter Rabbit was hugging his brother. The need for the love of the one and only family member he had left in the world, love from a brother who continued to push him away, love from a brother who hated to feel emotion because he thought it made a person look weak.

This from what he had observed and information from a child psychology paper on "_The Hidden Facets of the Sibling Relationship and What Effect it has in the Home_," Sebastian had read recently. It had been quite a fascinating article and helped him to understand the emotional qualms both boys may be feeling towards the other after so many years apart.

Despite the boy's haunted past, Lukas Phantomhive appeared mentally stable. According to the article, most people with his kind of history would have behavioral problems, but Lukas had a healthy sense of humor, which may account for him for slacking off a lot of the stress such experiences may bring about. A sense of humor, albeit undaunting, could also be a way to hide certain pain by making too many jokes, from a psychological point of view. Notwithstanding, Lukas Phantomhive was as sane as any other human Sebastian had come to know, so to speak.

But in his attempts to restore the somewhat fractured pieces of Lukas's mind, he had come across several difficult barriers that he could not break through, and one of which manifested itself as a large half-moon, iron, riveted door, with a single handle on the right side. More so, this door did _not_ have a key hole. But it was locked shut, albeit spiritually shut, and every time he attempted to open it, pull on the handle, a "guardian" would appear and ask him for the "pass phrase" - without it, the open would remain shut.

When Sebastian failed to recite it, the "guardian" - dressed much like an old-time Grim Reaper in a long, black robe with its face masked by a hood and holding a large, crescent bladed deathscythe - would immediately cast him out of the boy's mind, as if Sebastian were a virus invading Lukas's unconsciousness.

What was Lukas hiding that a "guardian" was needed to protect it?

But it was a question best left to another time, and it would have to wait until after the "scare" he was to impose on the boy, as ordered.

Reluctantly, he removed the glove from his right hand and placed it gently on Lukas's forehead. With a sequence he started to initiate, the connection between _his_ consciousness to Lukas's unconsciousness, he slowly closed his eyes and began to concentrate to enter the boy's mind -

"Hello," a child's voice said.

Sebastian immediately opened his eyes, jerking back, removing his hand from Lukas's forehead. Had he accidentally awakened the boy? As a demon, and not hot-blooded, his hands did have a certain chill to them. Perhaps this had awakened the boy? But it had never done so before. However, when he gazed upon Lukas Phantomhive, the boy was still very much still fast asleep with Bitter Rabbit still grasped in his arms.

"Over here," said the same child's voice.

Sebastian rose to his full height and turned towards the voice situated at the other end of the bed chambers.

There was a ghostly, translucent, blue hue, and it began to manifest itself into a semi-solid form, sitting in a low back chair in the corner of the room. It sat proper, with one leg crossed over a knee and its hands in its lap. Physically, this ghost had the appearance of a child - a twelve or thirteen year old boy, like his two master's.

"Forgive me for startling you," it said, although his voice conveyed no remorse.

Sebastian gave a brief glance to Lukas, then ventured over to the spirit, to speak with it. "And who may you be?" he asked quietly, so not to disturb Lukas's slumber.

"My name is Renfrew. Renfrew Phantomhive. And _you_ are Sebastian Michaelis."

"Forgive me, but you have me at a disadvantage."

Renfrew smiled. "Indeed. And that's where it will stay, for now. If you are attempting to unlock that _door_ inside my cousin's mind, I'm afraid you will be unsuccessful once more."

"Cousin?"

"Third cousin, once removed," Renfrew said.

Sebastian took this as this ghost was the grandson of his masters' great-great-grandfather.

"The Phantomhive's were at one point a very large family," Renfrew continued, "but a sudden rash of unexplained and mysterious deaths killed many of them off and now there are only two - Ciel and Lukas."

Unfortunately all the family records had been destroyed in the fire that took the original Phantomhive mansion, so Sebastian had no reference to which to base when the Phantomhive family began to die off. However, from certain stories told to him, he ventured it may have began in and about the late 17th century. This is when the Hope Diamond and its curse was first introduced to the Phantomhive family.

Pieces were cut from the original diamond and given as gifts to the family by a distant relative named Edward Lukas Phantomhive; the diamond stolen from France during the _French Revolutionary Wars _and brought back to England. It was rumored Edward Lukas Phantomhive hated his family and wished them all dead and gave them all pieces of the Hope Diamond with the curse intact, knowing this.

Few pieces had survived to this day, but one lost piece turned up with the Fallen Reaper Mathu Kelvin who attempted to use it to "Frankenstein" two of his associates Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt into a grotesque Cyclopic monster, to kill the last surviving members of the Phantomhive family - Ciel and Lukas.

But the Hope Diamond history was mere conjecture and Edward Lukas Phantomhive reasoning unclear even to this day, albeit plausible due to the unexplained deaths of the Phantomhive family over the years.

"But I digress…" the spirit continued.

"You are very well spoken," Sebastian said.

"We Phantomhive's pride ourselves on our education, in that, and among other things, including secrecy."

"The door, I suppose?"

"Correct."

"If I may be so bold, how did you die?" Sebastian asked.

"Fever, from a bug bite. A freak and unfortunate death, as I said."

"My sympathy."

"Keep your pity," Renfrew said brusquely. "I have been watching you, Michealis, ever since you entered _this_ family. But even before that, I have kept watch over Vincent's children, and I am aware of everything that has come before and after the contract you hold with my cousin Ciel. But, I am not here for that."

"To return from the sanctity of death, you must have a studious reason to be here."

"Quite. And I have remained observant up until now." Renfrew's expression turned stern. "You are a cancer, Sebastian Michealis. You have been entering Lukas's mind nightly, dwelling in his thoughts, restoring memories that are best left buried, and I am here to _demand_ you cease your actions."

"If you are aware of things, then you must know my master has given me permission to do so."

Renfrew nodded. "But not to prod into alcoves you do _not _belong."

"This is the reason I enter his mind," Sebastian explained. "He wishes to restore lost memories. I aid him in this. The mind is completely free of inhabitation at night, and in the human dream state, it is the perfect venue to reach out for what has been forgotten."

"This is a warning to cease you actions immediately or face dire consequences."

Sebastian smirked. "If I may repeat myself, if you are aware of things, then you know I can _not_ die by human coercion, especially by a phantom such as yourself. I am a demon, and a very powerful one. Is this secret so important to keep that you must resort to verbal intimidation?"

Renfrew remained silent, but his silence told Sebastian much.

"Are you this _guardian_ I encounter in my master's dream - the one who protects the iron door, demanding a pass-phrase to enter?"

Renfrew's eyes narrowed as he scowled. "You are smart, demon."

Sebastian tilted his head in smugness. "No, merely observant. Your presence and over-protectiveness of my master, in this regard, had be curious of your stance, so I baited you to talk. I have lived for a long time and have seen much; there is very little human's can do that does not me catch unawares."

"Be mindful of what you say, demon." Renfrew smiled smugly. "But you are correct. Without the pass-phrase, this door will _not_ open, and will _remain_ locked for as long as it, and _I_, are deemed relevant."

"What is your association with Master Lukas, other than family-wise? Why do you guard this door?"

"To protect him…and others. But that is all I will say." Renfrew stood on his feet. Sebastian towered him by a good three feet, but the boy did not appear intimidated. "Be this your final warning, demon. Cease your actions of entering inside Lukas Phantomhive's mind or grave consequences will befall you!"

"Your threats amuse me, Renfrew Phantomhive, but I fear no words from a phantom."

Renfrew scowled once more. "Heed my words, demon!"

"Or else…?"

"Or else…you will be _very_ sorry."

Renfrew Phantomhive's clandestine form faded away, but Sebastian could still sense the ghost watching him somewhere from the shadows. He was surprised that he had not sensed this _person_ before, if he had been in the mansion for as long as Sebastian had been head butler to Ciel Phantomhive.

Or had he been?

Maybe Renfrew had been following Lukas solely, as he was guardian to whatever important secret Lukas had hidden away in his mind, and had just recently taken up residence inside the mansion when Lukas arrived. In being observant, he may have merely overheard conversions about the Faustian contract, he had with Ciel Phantomhive.

And yet, he said he had be keeping watch over Vincent Phantomhive's children… No, "kept watch over Vincent's children", Sebastian corrected himself, past-tense. So, perhaps, it has not been that long. But Renfrew Phantomhive claimed to be nearly one-hundred years old, spiritually. What was so important inside Lukas's mind that a relative's spirit from the past protected it? It had Sebastian very curious.

Regardless, Sebastian considered the ghost's threat meaningless. In continuing to attempt to open this door, he would be keeping to his master's wishes. So he would continue.

Renfrew Phantomhive did not frighten him.

Sebastian eyed Lukas's bedchambers, taking in the walls, the chest of drawers, the furniture, and Lukas sleeping - without him hearing a word of the conversion spoken. The boy was a very sound sleeper.

But now Sebastian had his orders, and he would fulfill them. To scare Lukas, regretfully.

Walking back to Lukas's bed, he readied to put his hand on his master's forehead, when the voice of Renfrew Phantomhive boomed the bedchambers with a striking thunderous clap - that was solely directed at him, not disturbing Lukas.

"_You were warned, demon!_"

The voice was everywhere and yet nowhere.

"I must fulfill my master's orders," Sebastian said, glancing around, trying to find the voice. "And you will not deter me of them. Please leave. We have nothing more to discuss. I do not fear you."

"_But you are wrong, demon. Everyone and everything _living_ possesses fears that they can not escape from._"

"Then you are mistaken by your assessment of the term 'living', for I am not alive. I am the idol of death_, _and no ghost can harm me."

"_That, demon, is where you are wrong. Prepare to experience your punishment!_"

And with a sudden, invisible strike across the back of Sebastian's head, he collapsed unexpectedly, dropping to the floor at the foot of Lukas's bed…

And unconsciousness took him.

**To be continued…**


	4. Recalling Death

**CHAPTER 4 - "RECALLING DEATH"**

Lukas awoke from a dream he could not recall, but he knew he had had one. And he could have sworn that he had had heard someone talking just outside of his perception of wakefulness.

He always thought of himself as a heavy sleeper, nothing really woke him until his internal clock did. This he acquired from the "programmed" time he was allotted to sleep, assignedto him when he was under Bryon Kelvin's brainwashed influence. But something unexplained had awoken him _now_.

His mouth felt parched, and he literally had to peal himself off his stuff rabbit - drool acting as an adhesive to it from the side of his mouth. He must have been dreaming about something to make him drool, maybe food or something else. He liked chocolate and since the weather had changed cold, he often asked Sebastian to make him hot chocolate. But it was embarrassing, to drool, and his Bitter Rabbit was all warm with dampness. In a momentary panic, he felt below the sheets down near his legs and breathed easy. He had not urinated in his sleep. He had only did that once and Sebastian had kept quiet about it.

But he felt a chill to the room that made him shiver.

It _was_ winter time and Sebastian had sealed the windows to the best of his ability, but when the wind whipped up brutally, nothing could stop the coldness from bleeding through the walls. He had the iron coal pan at his feet and extra blankets and comforters, but this chill was something different. And it had a bitterness to it, and a _sadness_ he could not explain. _Can coldness be sad?_ he asked himself.

He had to chuckle to himself, thinking of his brother. Idealistically, he was a cold bastard and it was sad. He wished Ciel could be more happy. But after everything he'd experienced in the last two years, he supposed - despite his own tragedies - anyone would be bitter and cold to the world like his brother.

He placed the toy aside that he had recently taken to sleeping with, he didn't know why, but he knew he couldn't sleep without it nowadays, and sat up fully in bed. There was a rope attached to a lever in the ceiling next to his bed that if pulled would summon Sebastian from whatever room he was presently in, and the butler would come, but he wasn't one to be lazy, and he could get his own glass of water.

Swiveling out of bed, he went to plant his feet on the floor, when immediately he lost his footing, tripped, and fell face first to the floor, hitting the right side of his face hard.

_Thunk!_

"_Owwwwww!_" he voiced slowly and painfully, feeling the side of his face.

He had hit most hard on the upper part of his right eye socket and the bone throbbed with an intense pain. But he had felt worse pain - as an assassin, when he went up against opponents, he felt _a lot_ worse from what he could recall. This hurt, very much, however.

"What did I trip over?" he wondered out loud, feeling around.

His hands touched something and he pushed on it, then he momentarily flinched at the soft feel of it. He reached out again to touch it further. It was cold, but it felt like a human body, and it was wearing clothing.

Standing, he went to his night side table and struck a match, lighting a candle in a holder and illuminated the area at the side of his bed.

It was indeed a body.

And it was Sebastian!

"_Sebastian!_"

Lukas shook him, at first gently, then roughly, but neither could wake him from an apparent comatose sleep.

Sebastian did tell him and Ciel than every one-hundred years or so, demon's did go through a resting cycle for an undetermined period. Was this one of those times? How unexpected and inconvenient! And at the side of his bed!

"_Sebastian!_ This is no time to be sleeping. Rest someplace else. Awaken, _demon!_"

But not even his voice awoke him.

He opened his mouth to yell for help, when a hidden voice from the outer darkness of his candle spoke: "I would not do that, Lukas Phantomhive. He will not awaken, regardless."

Lukas snapped his gaze to a translucent, blue hue, that quickly formed into a ghostly entity, emerging at the back of his bed chambers near the chest of drawers. It stood, wearing old English clothes, and had the appearance of a child, much of his own age - thirteen years old.

At first he gasped, but then furrowed his brow with a strange sense of familiarity when he looked upon it. He stood on his feet slowly, standing next to Sebastian. "This may sound odd, but I believe I have seen you before…" His voice trailed off as he tilted his head slightly, taking in the entire otherworldly phantom. His right eye twitched with a sharp pain from the hit he took to his skull during his fall. He rubbed it gently and it soon faded, but he wondered if the fall had not caused this illusion he was seeing.

The ghost boy smiled. "Indeed, you have. But in another place, in another time - but in _this_ lifetime."

Lukas didn't understanding the boy's riddle, but instead of asking for an explanation, he asked, "What is wrong with Sebastian? Did you do this?" he demanded, not asking the spirit's name.

The ghost boy nodded. "He was becoming a nuisance, evasive, and entering your mind nightly, dwelling on secrets that were nothis to know. So I stopped him when he did not heed my warning to cease his actions. And he was going to hurt you."

"Hurt me?"

The ghost boy nodded again. "In a conversion we had, he told me that he was ordered to play some sort of trick on you for a past transgression you did against your bother Ciel."

"What sort of trick?"

"He was told to frighten you, but I stopped him when he attempted to enter you mind once more."

Frighten me?

Lukas thought. _Why would Ciel wish to frighten me?_ Then it occurred to him, regardless of how it was learned, Ciel must have ordered Sebastian to enact revenge on him for attempting to play a trick on Ciel - for Sebastian to enter his sleep and act out the demon's version of _The Christmas Carol_. Sebastian must have told Ciel everything that he and the butler had wanted to do and then reverse it. That was typical of his brother.

Lukas grind his teeth in anger and vowed that his brother would pay for this albeit playful but astringent treachery. He then gazed longingly at the spirit again with a sense of familiarity, trying hard to remember why he felt he _knew_ this spirit and a name suddenly popped into his head.

"_Renny…_" he spoke softly and retrospectively.

The ghost boy's eyes widened with excitement. "So you do remember me?"

Lukas blinked, but the weird sensation of remembrance quickly faded as if the mere thought triggered it to vanish as quickly as it came. He shook his head. "Forgive me, but I do not. But this _name_ and your face do strike a cord for some reason…" He shook his head again, trying hard to recall _something_, the sudden triggered but forgotten thought, brought it was gone._ "_But I can't place it. My apologizes. Needless to say, your presence _here_, in my bed chambers and this _world_, heeds my curiosity."

Renny frowned, but said, "Without a long explanation, needless to say, I am here for your protection and to repay a debt."

"What kind of debt? And how long has you been…"

"Deceased?" Renny finished Lukas's thought. "I am your third cousin, once removed. My name is Renfrew. Renfrew Phantomhive. I have been dead for near over one hundred years, given further years of grace. And I am here to repay a debt of kindness that you adhered to me during your bloody history with the evil man known as Bryon Kelvin, or _Father_ - as you once called him. If it were not for you and your exhausting efforts, I would still be in servitude with my immoral, old master, who would have held my spirit for all eternity, by care of a now _dead_ Fallen Reaper, who never took my soul to the world of the dead."

Lukas asked for further explanation and Renfrew told him…a long history. And that, since his freedom, Renfrew had been following Lukas, protecting him from harm, and in some small way, helped him break free of Bryon Kelvin's control, urging Lukas to fight from the shadows to restore his independence. But Renfrew would not take any credit for Lukas's _struggles_ in this regard. Lukas had used his own mental training from his _trainer _to eventually break free - the brainwashing no longer effective. Eventually Lukas was caged and was set to be deposed of like other children in the past who had defied Bryon Kelvin, but Lukas found a way to escape, running away…but his memories had been taken from him with induced amnesia by Kelvin of what he had done - the missions he had undertaken for him and all his associations.

Not even Renfrew could recall everyone involved, and fortunately, two of them - Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt - were now dead, as was Kelvin's nephew, Mathu - possessed by a _Fallen Reaper _- whom Renfrew saw dragged to hell during Sebastian's battle in the mansion's back courtyard months prior.

"Is your old master dead? Did I kill him?" Lukas asked.

"No," Renfrew said. "He is in hibernation."

Lukas's brow furrowed. "Hibernation? Like wild animals do in the winter season?"

Renfrew nodded. "And you placed him in this state five years ago, underground…" He shook his head. "But you told me not to reveal his location if ever your memory returned."

"What you told me still has my mind in a fog," Lukas said. "I don't remember any of it. And if he is in hibernation, he is not a threat."

Renfrew frowned. "I'm afraid, you are mistaken. Time is almost at an end, and the five year hibernation cycle you and another placed him in will soon expire. Then he will awaken and terrorize once more. If you had died by Bryon Kelvin's hand, I would not worry. I am happy you survived, but I fear when he awakens he may come looking for you to retrieve what _you_ took away."

"_I took away?_"

"I can say no more."

"How can we stop his awakening?"

"It can not. But as long as he is unable to obtain the secret buried deep inside your mind - " Renfrew stopped short. "Forgive me, I can not say anymore."

"What _secret_?"

"I have been sworn to secrecy. Suffice it to say, this is what I have prevented Sebastian Michealis from accessing inside your mind, night-after-night, despite you giving him permission to restore forgotten memories from your past. I have been your guardian, in this respect."

"Guardian? Is this the debt you spoke of?"

"Correct. Sebastian Michealis is a cancer to your mind, this demon of a butler. He has proven successful in helping you, but has been malicious in attempting to access this information, for which I have continuously forbid him from acquiring without the correct pass-phrase. Not even the Undertaker attempted to access this information when he helped you with your amnesia - the Reaper knowing better, and I informed him of such when we briefly spoke. He was very understanding of my guardianship, despite him having Reaper _heavenly_ knowledge of this information, regardless. I also asked him to not speak of me."

So, Renfrew knew the Undertaker?

"Pass-phrase? What is this pass-phrase?" Lukas then said.

"That, I can not tell you, regardless of it being of _your_ creation."

"So I know it?"

Renfrew nodded. "In a sense. But I have hidden it _even_ from you with a spirit spell, and in the case of Sebastian Michaelis, this is wise on my part. If this information was ever learned and used improperly and it fell into the wrong hands, grave misfortunate will befall all who may be aware of it, including yourself."

"Did Sebastian mention a door with a hooded figure with a deathscythe guarding it? Is this _guardian_ you?"

"He has revealed it to you? While I have been following you, I am, on occasion, called away…" Renfrew mused for a moment. "So, the demon has told you of this door. If that is _all_, then the secret is still safe."

"What is the pass-phrase? If I created it, I wish it known."

"Do not wish for that."

"You will not tell me? It may help restore memories I am lacking."

"You do not wish for _these_ memories, if it can be helped." Renfrew shook his head, folding his arms across his chest in defiance. "I will not discharge a vow to protect you, I am sorry."

"Then we are at an impasse."

"Indeed, we are."

"Restore Sebastian," Lukas demanded. "Awaken him, if you have ushered him into this unconscious state?"

Again, Renfrew refused. "He will learn the _error_ of his ways for defying my warning, like all creatures learn from their mistakes. This demon says he does not fear anything because he is not alive, but I wager that is a lie and I will cast doubt in _himself_ of his self-delusional belief."

Lukas scowled. "What do you mean by that?"

But Renfrew remained silent.

Lukas crouched down, placing a comforting hand on Sebastian's immobile body. The butler was not just a demon to _him_, he was a friend - a friend who had helped Lukas when he needed it most, who had welcomed him back to side with his brother, helped him restore fractured memories, provided guidance without a fatherly-figure around, and risked his very existence to protect _him_ and his brother from the Fallen Reapers, and for which this ghost seems to be aware of. This was an outstanding debt Lukas, at the very least, owed Sebastian in kind, regardless of Sebastian being a _minion_ of the most detestable and wicked being ever to exist. Lucifer, the devil of biblical literature.

Lukas eyed the ghost with distain. "If you will not tell me what I wish to know or recant your personal vow, then we have nothing left to speak to each other about. Leave my sight _immediately_!"

Renfrew's mouth dropped agape, shocked. "But I am only protecting you - "

"I don't need your protection or _want_ it!" Lukas said, speaking arrogantly of his own skills to defend himself from his training. "Leave my sight _now_!" His anger fueling his emotions for what Renfrew had supposedly done to Sebastian through spiritual means, hurting his friend.

Renfrew turned his head unwanted, downcasting his eyes, but he restated he would not recant his vow. "I would have hoped you'd understand, Lukas. Much like your brother and this demon have a _contract_, and so do we - a promise - and I will not renege on it." He looked back, exchanging a hard stare with Lukas. "I will leave, but I will continue to watch events unfold according to my vow."

And with a turn of his body, his translucent hue dissipated like swirling mist into nothingness.

Lukas watched the area near his chest of drawers fill with darkness once again, the light of the candle he held illuminating only the immediate area of where he was standing next to Sebastian.

Unable to carry Sebastian's weight, he left him and went down the hall to his brother's quarters, ventured through the room's vestibule and into his bedchambers. While he didn't mean to, a certain anger within him for what his brother's "trickery" must have filled him, and when he opened the door, he accidentally slammed it against the back wall, awakening Ciel with a frightening start.

Ciel jumped upright in bed.

"Brother, something terrible has happened."

"So it gives you justification to enter my bedchambers unannounced and to slam the door?" Ciel said angrily, his right eye aglow with the Faustian covenant, like a beacon in the darkness. This at least told Lukas Sebastian was _alive_, albeit in his comatose state. For as long as his brother had the covenant, he and Sebastian were bond by its devilish indenture. "How dare you barge in here like some sort of - "

"Get out of bed _now_," Lukas demanded. "Something has happened to Sebastian."

With this, Ciel appeared to forget his immediate anger and hoped out of bed. Much like a son adores and respects his father, Ciel, without saying it, respected Sebastian for his guardianship. Sebastian was like the parent's Bryon Kelvin, or someone in his association, had taken away. This was proven when it appeared the grotesque monster Ironstadt had devoured Sebastian during their intense battling, and Ciel had cried out in both horror and in a child's wail for him. Ciel, of course, denied it had ever happened afterwards.

Without a robe, wearing only his long white bed shirt, Ciel followed Lukas down the corridor to Lukas's quarters, and together they found Sebastian laying on the floor immobile, next to Lukas's bed, candle light illuminating half the room.

"What happened?" Ciel demanded.

And Lukas began to tell him everything, no matter of how fantastic he knew how it would sound.

* * *

"_Damascus?…Damascus?…Where are you, child?_"

The voice was that of a sweet sound woman - and it filled the open fresh, flowery smelling air with a _pleasantness _Sebastian was unaccustomed to. It had come from a distance, carried by a gentle wind within a mild warm climate - a mother calling for her child. But it was enough to awaken Sebastian from his evident, induced slumber, brought on by the ghostly apparition - Renfrew Phantomhive.

He found himself looking up into a bright, blue sky, as he lain on his back in a field of yellowish flowers, the warmth of the sun beaming into his skin, but that was impossible. He had not _felt_ the sun in _so_ many years. The sun to him was just a ball of mixed gases at the centre of the galaxy that the planets orbited. He had not felt its warmth in more years that he could recall, and yet, right now he was feeling it. Once known to ancient Greek and Roman mythology as _Tartarus,_ but now commonly referred to as Hell - but he just called it home - the heat here was intense. But this warmth was different, almost _pleasant_ in feeling.

But it was impossible. The day he became a demon was the day he renounced all his humanity, all pleasantries of its association, including _pleasant warmth_. He had not been born a demon, but given a choice, granted its privilege by another. He had not regretted the choice, but on occasion he did yearn for certain things that he missed that he had once adhered to in taking pleasure in as a human.

The voice called again, but no one replied to the woman…

As the sun bleed warmth and an overabundance of light, he raised a hand to his face to shield his eyes, and noticed its unquantifiable, smaller size, much like a child. He also took notice of his "white" nails, and the fact that both hands were bare of any markings, such as his master's covenant in the back of them. He quickly sat up and noticed the rest of himself, his diminutive stature and highly pedestrian, antiquated clothing. He wore a mauve-colored, animal sown tunic, and two simply, crafted sandals with thin ropes that twined up and around his bare calfs.

"_Damascus!_" the voice was stronger this time, more demanding. "_Where are you, my son?_"

Sebastian saw - first the head of a woman with long, flowing brown hair, who had been calling her son's name, climbing up the hill towards Sebastian, then the rest of her white, tunic covered body. She smiled at _him_, as if relieved to find _him_ safe. And Sebastian's eyes widened with shock, as her features, her face - _her_ - suddenly came to his mind with absolute familiarity and he shook his head in utter disbelief.

"There you are, Damascus," she said, showing a lovely, broad smile. "You had me worried, dear. Did you fall asleep again? You are a lazy child sometimes." She looked towards the sky. "It is a beautiful day, but your father needs your help at the peer unloading the cargo. New supplies have just arrived for the city."

Sebastian shook his head in disbelief again. There was a rumbling beneath him and the ground quaked slightly, but he didn't seem to notice. The only thing he was focused on was the face of this woman. A woman he had not thought about in nearly two thousand years, and who had died horribly.

"You can't be _her…_" he said slowly.

She tilted her head slightly. "I can't be whom, dear? Did you hit your head?" She quickly ruffed his thick, light, unruly hair, but apparently found nothing of concern.

"I don't think so_…_" he said, still in shock at what he was experiencing.

Was Renfrew Phantomhive doing this? Sebastian knew dreams became reality to those who did not realize they were dreaming - and in his preparation to frighten his master, he would use this knowledge to intercede into his dreams and scare him - but _this_, he knew this was _no_ dream. This was…

He jumped to his feet. His smaller legs lowering him far below this woman's height, for which he knew _he_ was approximately much taller, or at least as Ciel Phantomhive's butler. A demon could be anyone or anything at anytime, but for the last two years a much taller height was the height he had been accustomed to. At this moment, he was merely half that height - a boy's height, like his master's - and his skin was paler, but tinted with a redish tan probably from the summer warmth, and he could feel the warmth of his skin and blood flowing through his veins, his heart pounding inside his chest, his muscles twitching with movement, air in his lungs. Like a human.

Which was _impossible!_

The hill he stood on, overlooked a large city of stone and brick mortar and a long wooden peer docked with ships within a circular harbor bay with crystal blue water. And overshadowing it all was a fat volcano towering into the sky, bellowing plumes of smoke.

The ground quaked once more, more violently this time, nearly throwing him off his feet, and he knew that _this world_ - a world of the past -had shaken many times before - from what he quickly recalled of historical accounts, caused by _that_ volcano. It had a name, but he failed to immediately recollect it. But it was the size of a large mountain with a ring of clouds hovering around its neck like necklace with even more smoke emerging.

"Pluto is angry," his mother said, as she also gazed at it. "We have somehow angered him."

The last planet in the known galaxy, Sebastian immediately recalled. Pluto was also the ruler of the underworld in Roman mythology.

"Then why not flee?" Sebastian said with an intense urgency and importance, because he knew what was to come. When this volcano erupted, it would destroy everything! "Sail a ship, far, far away - into the sea - beyond its endless reaches! We must flee, flee for our lives! This can not be happening - not again! A man should not experience the devastation and destruction of one's world twice in his lifetime!"

He was anxious, he was apprehensive, he was…

"_Bracus!_" his mother called down to his father at the peer. "_I think something is wrong with Damascus!_"

It was then - and it was odd why had had he not noticed it before - that he noticed she and _he_ were both speaking Italian, the language of _his_ ancestors. But he had not spoken Italian for a long, long time. And for good reason. He had not spoken the language since the destruction that destroyed his home because to do so was to cast _heartful_ memories upon him, and much like his master, he cared not to remember them; memories he thought he had buried. But he could not mistake where he was - where Renfrew Phantomhive had brought him; deep inside his subconscious mind, deep inside own "forgotten" memories.

Indeed, Renfrew Phantomhive was powerful. He had managed to open a locked door inside Sebastian's mind, a door opened to his past, a past he wished he could forget - and thought he had when he became a demon. He had thought he had put his past behind him. But he did not have a guardian like Lukas Phantomhive, and he thought he was stronger-willed than to allow a ghost to invade his mind like this…

He dropped to his knees laughing, nervously, even _frightened_, as his father came running up the hill.

He had nearly two thousand years of memories to recall…and when this volcano erupted, he knew this city will not see the light of day again until the middle half of the 18th century - its citizen's buried alive, frozen in time by hot ash and volcano soot - the city cast into eternal darkness and forgotten to all until excavated, found with the bodies of buried souls trapped within hardened volcanic ash, their faces in agony and death.

And his _own_ fate sealed in the mix of it.

The city of Pompeii with the volcano Vesuvius towering over its body will disappear in a supposed single day and night like the island of Atlantis in the Mediterranean Sea, despite similar destructions in the past that nearly destroyed it but for which was granted latency for an allotted time with occasional earthquakes and ground tremors. And with this city, the nearby cities of Herculaneum and Nuceria will be affected…and will be gone, destroyed - _forgotten_! One of the worse natural disasters to occur in all of time!

He thought he had buried it deep inside his mind.

But now it had come rushing back, and _yesterday_, was the festival to Vucanlia, the Roman god of fire, the day before the fateful day…today!

He had told Renfrew Phantomhive that nothing frightened him, but Sebastian knew that was a lie - and he remembered at that moment he had thought of his home in the past. The ghost must have read his mind at that moment and had apparently tapped into Sebastian's history _very_ easily, creating this _mind illusion._

He tried to abolish it from his mind, to save himself from experiencing _his history_ once more. But failed miserably. Renfrew Phantomhive obviously intended to punish him for entering Lukas Phantomhive's mind - to frighten _him_ for not heeding to the ghost's warning.

And his nervous laughter suddenly turned to tears and be began to cry.

For a demon, it was unheard of. But for a thirteen year old boy, knowing he was about to die - he allowed it. And couldn't help it.

**August 24, 79 A.D.**

The day when everything changed. The day the world ended.

The day that _Damascus_ died.

**To be continued…**


	5. Thann Von Strauss

**CHAPTER 5 - "THANN VON STRAUSS"**

Chief-Inspector (Detective) Frederick Abberline sat at his desk in the Homicide Division of Scotland Yard and in front of him was a mound of paper work that he honestly did not have much interest in working on. So he sat back in his chair and took a moment to muse to himself, gazing over the completely open concept but empty room he worked in, with layers of other desks belonging to other inspectors.

But none of the others were as messy his was, with papers swished in every direction and angles, folders buried beneath others with or without connection to other folders. And then where was the pile of folders toppled precariously on the right corner of his desk. Nevertheless, none of them were of any consequence to him at the moment. His mind was on a certain case, a supposedly closed case - but he didn't think so. He didn't know why he was thinking of this cold case right now, but it had not mind occupied solely.

It was the case of the deaths of Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive. Parents to Ciel and Lukas Phantomhive, fraternal twins, once separated by a tragedy but then reunited only a few months back by some yet fully explained events that the family was keeping suspiciously quiet about. When Lukas Phantomhive's return was announced to the media, there was much fanfare and celebration, but Abberline suspected the mystery of Lukas's disappearance was much more involved than what the written article Ciel Phantomhive gave to the press with plausible theories on Lukas's kidnapping by the notorious child kidnapper of London. Lukas explained that he had managed to chose a moment to escape after seven years, but he had amnesia of many of those many years and could not cast light on whom the kidnapper or kidnappers may be.

This brought suspicion to Abberline who prided himself on learning truth, much like the case of Jack the Ripper, whom _he_ considered unsolved with Scotland Yard accusing the wrong person. There was absolutely no evidence the man they had was the serial killer who murdered six prostitutes in the Whitechapel District. Severin Antoniovich Klosowski did come to England, an immigrant from Poland - and does have a medical background and mediocre at best - however, his medical knowledge was not enough to carefully remove those six women's organs, even Abberline knew it could only be someone with more in depth medical knowledge. However, Klosowski was indeed Scotland Yard's prime suspect in the case.

But along with the six prostitutions - the last being a pretty young thing named Mary Kelly - there was a seventh victim: Ciel Phantomhive's aunt, commonly referred to as Madame Red around town, because of her recognizable red dress attire. By all accounts, it appeared she had be in the wrong place at the wrong time and Jack the Ripper murdered her because she saw something she shouldn't - namely his face. Abberline imagined Ciel must have been devastated when he learned of it.

Notwithstanding those murders, he suspected something else was amiss with the Phantomhive's themselves, something hidden in the shadows, sinister, and even gothic in nature. And the sudden reappearance of Lukas Phantomhive was top on his list of something suspicious goings-on with the whole "resurrection" affair. With all the children who had turned up dead over the years _after_ being kidnapped, some with brutal wounds and even self-inflicted fatal injuries, why and how had Lukas Phantomhive managed to survive all these years and then escape with little more than a vertical scar over his left eye? His brother Ciel had fared worse after the deaths of their parents. Something wasn't right about the whole affair here. Pieces were missing and the _pieces_ Scotland Yard _did_ have were not fitting properly into the overall puzzle, as far as he saw it. But he kept his opinions of it to himself.

He knew the Phantomhive's were keeping many secrets. But was it really his problem to handle? Perhaps he should just stay out of it and let sleeping dogs lie? Sir (Lord) Arthur Randall, head commissioner of Scotland Yard, and his boss, seemed to think that all the cases Abberline was thinking about were closed to the satisfaction of his authority. He may have looked like a clueless detective, Abberline thought everyone thought of him, but he wasn't as naïve as people thought he was, and he knew Sir Randal knew more than he was revealing about the Phantomhive's, to the public and to the Yard.

"Abberline!"

Abberline jerked his attention out of his inner thoughts and almost fell back in his chair, but then using forward momentum, brought himself back and planted his hands flat in his desk to stop a fall.

Normally the harsh sounding voice of his boss was commonplace, but it had startled him with its buoyant echo in the empty room. Sir Randall was of average height, was in his late-forties with dark grey hair, had long sideburns and a full mustache, and wore square glasses. He contrasted Abberline's own appearance. Abberline was taller, with shaggy auburn hair, had excellent vision, and yet was less confident of his abilities. Although that was in good part to Sir Randall being more experienced, he decided.

Sir Randall came storming from an adjacent corridor in the division room.

Abberline quickly swished some papers around on his desk, burying some, lifting others, as Sir Randall approached. Most people would think Sir Randall was angry at the world, but he _always_ had that kind of an expression on his face, and Abberline was used to it.

"What are you doing here this late at night, Abberline?"

"I decided to finish up some work, sir."

This appeared to take Sir Randall by surprise. "Oh, well, very good, Abberline," he said, his voice calmer. "The Christmas season is always a busy time of year."

"Indeed sir. I still have a lot of work to finish off - "

"Nonsense," Randall said. "Go home to your wife and enjoy the holidays for the next couple of days. It looks like it is going to snow, so you better hurry."

Abberline looked out a window and saw the darkness outside. The inadequately lit streets of London were a dangerous place and even more so during winter, and he had to walk home. Luckily he only lived twenty minutes away. But Sir Randall telling him to go home _nicely_ was strange of its own accord. Sir Randall was never _nice_. But Sir Randall had a wife and children, and perhaps, Abberline was keeping him from going home to them, and Randall wanted to lock up the office. Sir Randall was a workaholic and often was the last one left in the office at the end of the day.

Abberline grabbed his coat and hat and began to dress. He didn't bother cleaning up his dress as his desk was normally messy, or organized as he liked it. He often knew where things were, even if others didn't.

Then he remembered something critical. "Sir, if I recall, you said that your wife and children were spending the holidays with your mother in - "

"Yes," Sir Randall's tone became harsh again. "Yes, I did. And what of it, Abberline?"

"Oh, nothing sir. I was wondering if you would like to come to our home on Christmas day…"

Sir Randall waved the thought off. "No, no, Abberline. Thank you for the consideration, but I have plans."

Abberline knew when not to press. "Oh…very well. Well, good tidings, sir."

"And to you, Abberline."

Abberline then left.

* * *

As soon as Abberline had left, Sir Randall briefly eyed the man's disorganized desk. The man was a good first-inspector, but sometimes his organizational habits fell by the wayside.

Much like the world - nothing was white or black anymore, even the grey-scale of things had a multitude of different shades, lighter and darker. The world was changing and often people were not whom they seemed to be. To just look at a person by outward appearances was faulty logic nowadays, because the person on a psychological level was much different, like Abberline. He was organized in his reports and proper spoken, but he had a wild, ambitious side that Sir Randall could see by Abberline's desk.

But perhaps he was thinking too deep about it. Over his thirty year career as a detective, he knew a file never defined a person's true character and his credentials were merely education. It was what a person learned in the field that truly defined someone, and Abberline had proved himself time and time again. And though he would never openly admit it, he felt Abberline would become a fine successor for him one day.

First, Abberline had to clean up his desk.

Randall went to clear up a few papers on Abberline's desk out of the "goodness" of his heart; he didn't have anywhere to go right now; when a voice said, "He's a good detective, Sir Randall, but a lousy house maid."

Sir Randall snapped his attention around to the voice, and saw a young, handsome looking man, in his mid-twenties with medium length black hair, clean-shaven, and wearing black leather attire from his shirt to the knee-high boots, with his feet propped up on another detective's desk, leaning back in a chair. The man wore a low V-neck collar that exposed a muscular but trimmed physique and a close-cropped chain around his neck much like a dog collar with a crucifix attached. Sir Randall didn't know if that meant the man was Catholic or Protestant as both shared the cross as a religious symbol of faith, but he didn't care. In this cold season, Sir Randall knew leather grew cold exposed to cold temperatures, so he wondered about the man's mental state, but the man appeared more concerned with fashion than necessity. The man did bring a jacket not made of leather and it was hung over another chair.

He didn't need to be introduced to this man, because he knew who he was the moment he set eyes on him. But how did he get inside without being noticed and without Abberline seeing him?

The man cupped some kind of reflective small sphere in his right hand, slightly larger than his hand - bronze in color, and he gazed at as Randall spoke to him.

"What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in!" Sir Randall's voice was accusatory and rough. Although he probably already knew the answer. The man bribed the night watchman in the main lobby. But how covert had he been for Abberline not to see him?

"Come, come, Sir Randall, is that anyway to greet a friend?" the man said, not taking his eyes off the sphere.

Sir Randall grit his teeth behind a closed mouth. The man was not a friend, more so an unwanted acquaintance, and he had come across this young man by accidental means during a case only last year. Since then, he had learned a great deal many things about the reality of the world and how his little pocket of it was merely a drop in the bucket compared to this young man's reach in it.

His name was Thann von Strauss and he was an arrogant, wealthy, son-of-a-bitch, with powerful ties in the mafia and other organizations around England and indeed the world, that Scotland Yard were only vaguely aware about, even ties with the Vatican in Rome, Italy. He was also a member of a secret, world-wide cult, called the _Illuminati _that had many influential members that, by all accounts, were more powerful than the Crown of England. Strauss was the son of one its most elite members. German born, but raised in England, Strauss was born to wealth and privilege, and if he wanted something, it was given to him on a silver platter without hesitation. He was also an intermediary for the _Illuminati_. People who knew the _Illuminati _existed were life members, those who knew of its existence but choose to disregard its law and order were dead. Sir Randall was not an official member, but he knew how to keep a secret. His life depended on it.

"Whom I call a friend is a privilege," Sir Randall said gruffy.

Strauss laughed. "Then I consider it an honor," he said with some amusement.

"What is that?" Randall addressed the bronze sphere in Strauss's hand. "It looks like a children's toy."

"It's an Epiphany Ball. Everyone who holds it _must_ tell the truth, they have no choice. It's impossible to lie when you hold it. It was brought to England on a cargo ship, given to an explorer from a high priest, who lived in a tribal village in New Guinea, which is part of a much larger but isolated island in the Indo-Australian Archipelago in the Pacific Ocean. Story be told, it was said to be discovered in the depths of a cavernous mountain perfectly formed. The Spanish discovered the island in the 16th century and conquered its people to near annihilation. It's cultural diversity is immense and is said to date back 40,000 years ago. "

Strauss looked up from the ball at Randall as to observe his reaction.

Sir Randall eyed Strauss very suspiciously, his brow furrowed. "You're a habitual lair, Strauss."

Strauss laughed more heartedly, then he tossed the sphere to Sir Randall, but Sir Randall fumbled with catching it and dropped it, it shattered on the floor like glass. Sir Randall then picked up one piece and looked at it. It had two small holes to slip a thread of string through.

"A Christmas decoration?" Sir Randall said curiously.

"Correct," Strauss said. "But unlike your subordinate, _you_ are not so gullible. However, the history of the island is true. Be it true, that _we_ stretch across many facets of the world, Sir Randall."

Sir Randall nodded, knowing at least _that_ was true. The _Illuminati_ were literally everywhere, encompassing the globe and in places no one would ever think to find them, probably even in places that the world didn't even know existed yet. The history of the _Illuminati_ was indeed vast, but he didn't know a lot about them, only that they controlled a great deal of political, economical and social institutions around the world.

"My subordinate? Do you mean Abberline?"

"Correct." Strauss lowered his feet to the floor and stood up. "Mr. Fredrick Abberline appears to have been very busy with another case, sticking his nose in places where it doesn't belong. A side job, not sanctioned by the police force. Burning the midnight oil on a great deal of occasions."

"What do you mean?"

"He's a good man and a good detective, Sir Randall, but we want it stopped."

"What stopped? Explain yourself _now_."

Strauss ventured over to Abberline's desk and moved away some papers with a hand, and seemed to know exactly what he was looking for, from what Sir Randall saw, and stopped at a picture of a young boy buried under other papers, as if purposely hidden underneath. Sir Randall recognized the boy immediately with a two to three inch scar running vertical over his left eye; Lukas Phantomhive had received it during an unexplained altercation at the Phantomhive estate, or prior - he wasn't entirely sure. He was the twin brother of Ciel Phantomhive, and most recently reappeared after a seven year absence, supposedly kidnapped by the now notorious child kidnaper of London, whom at present, was still at large.

"What does this have to do with that boy?" Sir Randall asked, lifting the photograph of the boy.

The picture appeared to have been taken at the fanfare celebration at the Phantomhive estate several months back when the Phantomhive's invited a great deal of the London press, media, and other socalities, for Lukas's homecoming, to recite his miraculous tale of surviving against the odds of a mad man's insidious nature. Unfortunately, and Sir Randall suspected that Lukas was keeping secrets, he could not give a description of the kidnapper, even after seven long years of being his captive.

Had Abberline been there? Yes, he recalled. To monitor the event as a police presence, and further more, Abberline had been personally asked by Ciel Phantomhive to be present. Back then he hadn't questioned it, but now, and with Ciel Phantomhive's connections with Queen Victoria and being her royal guard dog and protector against threats to the crown, he wondered about it _now_. But why would Abberline have a photo of Lukas Phantomhive spread haphazardly on his desk?

Strauss then pushed away more papers, throwing some to the floor and found something else. A thin, plain-colored folder, and inside were notes, hand-written by Abberline with Lukas Phantomhive's history. Strauss handed it to Sir Randall, and Sir Randall quickly read through some of the finer points.

"We suspect your detective has been doing this for some time, ever since Lukas Phantomhive re-emerged, gathering notes and information on the boy," Strauss said with an importance Sir Randall had not expected or previously heard from the man. "And we want it stopped _immediately_!"

"This is all public knowledge of the boy, why is -" He stopped himself from speaking the word _Illuminati _out loud. "Why are _you_ afraid of this? What is he investigating?"

"_We_ are not afraid, Sir Randall," Strauss said strongly. "But what we think your detective is _investigating_ is the _truth_, the _truth_ behind Lukas Phantomhive's kidnapping. Abberline is a smart man, perhaps too smart. The boy is hiding a great deal of secrets that Abberline may suspect."

"That is obvious," Sir Randall agreed. "But there is nothing wrong with keeping secrets. Notwithstanding, if Lukas Phantomhive impedes our investigation of the child kidnappings of London, we will arrest him and hold him indefinitely until he speaks. Simply that. And I will speak with Abberline about this."

"You will do no such thing. _We_ will handle Abberline if he becomes too involved, in _our_ investigation of _certain_ events…" Strauss's voice trailed off as his eye caught something on Abberline's desk, for which Sir Randall followed his gaze. Strauss pushed back a piece of paper that was partially covering another photograph. Strauss picked it up.

Sir Randall could only see it partially from his angle, but then stood beside Strauss to view it fully. It was a black and white photograph of four people, three men and one woman. The woman he didn't know, but the three men he did. One of them was Mathu Kelvin, nephew of the late philanthropist Bryon Kelvin, and the other two in white suits were the serial killers, Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt, who were presumed to have gone into the criminal underground because they had not been seen in months. Neither had Mathu Kelvin, if Sir Randall recalled. There was no question why Mathu Kelvin would associate himself with notorious killers. He was a infamous gambler and controlled many underground gambling dens.

The photograph looked a little blurry and appeared to have been taken while the group were in a slow motion walk somewhere, a brick wall was in the background. The focus was a little strained as well, as if the camera operator, presuming it was Abberline, had focused hard on them to capture them from a distance for the best possible clarity with the camera he was using.

"It would appear that First-Inspector Frederick Abberline has been more active that we originally thought," Strauss said with some concern, scowling slightly.

"Why would Abberline have a photograph like this on his desk?" Sir Randall went to take it from Strauss, but Strauss snapped it away. The man looked at him with dagger-eyes and Sir Randall took a half-step back. He gulped. "Those men are Mathu Kelvin and the notorious twin killers Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt, are they not? But who is that gypsy woman?"

Strauss went over and grabbed his jacket from the chair he had hung it over and put it on, slipping the photograph of the criminals in a side pocket.

"I suggest you leash your dog, Sir Randall, or _we_ will do _it_ for you." And Strauss left.

* * *

Abberline blew hot air into his bare hands as he tried to warm them on this cold winter night, as he made his way home on the streets of mid-London. The streets appeared deserted, most of the city's inhabitants were either inside their homes or asleep. It was quite late. And he figured that his fiancée Maria would be worried about him. He didn't realized just how late it was until Sir Randall had told him, losing track of his thoughts at the office.

His mind had been racing about a certain case he was undertaking and his thoughts raced with it still. There was just something very wrong with the case of Lukas Phantomhive's reappearance from seven years, kidnapped by the now still mysterious but notorious child kidnapper of London, whom Lukas could not even give a description of. The one thing he had mentioned was that he was told to refer to him as _Father_, for which, if a kidnappee was infatuated with his kidnapper to the point of calling him such, it might account for the boy's amnesia and admiration not to allow any harm to come to him in later years…

He was no child psychologist, but he knew when someone was playing the deception game. But what would Lukas Phantomhive have to gain to not reveal his kidnapper's name and face? And then Abberline had it, and just like his brother's mentality with his parents' killers - he wanted to catch the man himself and issue his own brand of justice. If this was the case, this was not the proper method to go about it, and in the meantime, more children were being taken. He would need to speak with Lukas Phantomhive about this and possibly straighten him out. Vigilante justice was not the way. And he himself was not being a vigilante, because once he gathered up enough information, he would take it to Scotland Yard for them to handle. He considered himself an information gatherer only.

It was a side case, no one else knew about it. And he was doing this for his own personal reasons. He wanted to have a family one day and he wanted his son or daughter to be safe in London. But to help London, he needed to aid of Lukas Phantomhive, whom Abberline knew he knew more than he was telling to the police. There was also Lukas's sketchy rumored connection to notorious killers Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt, who suddenly went missing along with Mathu Kelvin months back, according to information he was able to gather with hidden sources and contacts during his covert investigations. Nothing could be confirmed and it was mainly all conjecture. However, some of what he was hearing about the boy _could_ be true, and if so, the boy could be the key to solving and arresting the child kidnapper of London.

He was taking a big risk by doing this - and he just hoped his boss didn't find out about his secret investigations or he would be in big trouble.

He heard the large crack from behind him, as if from a boot crunching a piece of ice underfoot. He knew that he was being followed. He had had been for the last couple of blocks. Normally it would only take him twenty or so minutes to walk home from the office, even less time if he wanted to make it home that much faster, but he didn't want his tail to think that he knew of his presence. Instead he decided to take an alternative route and headed into an alleyway. Then stopped, pressed his back against the wall, and waited.

And waited…

He heard snow swish as his pursuer hurried in step to catch him, and turned into the alleyway.

It was then Abberline grabbed the man by the lapels of his coat and thrust him hard against a brick wall, setting off a exhale croak from him, the man's face cringing in pain.

"Who are you?" he demanded. "And why are you following me?"

Abberline ripped away a dark scarf that was covering the man's face from nose to mouth, but left a winter toque covering his head, revealing a younger man in his later teenage years. Abberline guessed seventeen, no more.

"Please, don't hurt me!" the teen pleaded, putting up his hands in a surrender gesture. "Felony is not my purpose with you. My name is Spencer von Strauss, and you, Inspector Abberline, are in grave danger!"

**To be continued...**


	6. Secrets Abound

_**CHAPTER 6 - "SECRETS ABOUND"**_

In Abberline's home, Maria, Abberline's fiancée handed Spencer Von Strauss a cup of hot tea as he sat on a couch in the living room, with Frederick Abberline sitting in a chair adjacent to him.

Spencer Von Strauss accepted it with appreciation and took a sip. Abberline observed the lad as he took pleasure in its taste and noticed how the teen's fingers flexed and wrapped around the cup as if to get warm. The lad had on leather gloves when Abberline first saw him which did not insulate against the cold very well and he must have been outside for quite a while waiting to follow Abberline.

Abberline knew of the Von Strauss finally. They were the largest importer/exporter of leather goods, wools, and meats in the British Commonwealth and its colonies, with a multitude of animal farms in Germany, England, France, Denmark, and other places - which may have accounted for the boy's leather gloves, made of rawhide from the animals the farm's slaughtered. And yet, they were better than no gloves, for which Abberline didn't have this night.

He had invited Spencer back to his home because of what the boy had told him in the alleyway after Abberline had pinned him against the wall; he said that Abberline was in grave danger. Here, at home, he was hoping to become further clued in to what the boy meant.

"Thank you," Spencer said again. "It is a very cold night."

"Please start again," Abberline said, "about what you said to me in the alleyway."

"I was waiting until you left the office to speak with you, unfortunately I did not realize how late you were going to be and I was under-dressed," he said instead in response, briefly glancing at Maria. He wrapped his hands more tightly around the hot cup, and Abberline could see this. The boy also wore thin material trousers and a dark colored dress shirt. Around his neck was something that looked like a dog collar with a crucifix. He knew Spencer's older brother wore a similar "collar" which was something of both a fashion statement and symbolic of their religious beliefs.

Maria excused herself, knowing Abberline would prefer to speak with Spencer alone. Spencer thanked her for the tea once more.

"I had some important reports to finish," Abberline said when she was gone, not saying anything further. "Now, in conjunction with what you told me in the alleyway - why were you following me, and why am I in grave danger?"

Spencer nodded, settling the cup in his lap. "My older brother is a member of a secret cult called the _Illuminati_, and they have learned of your covert investigation into the boy, Lukas Phantomhive, and his re-emergence into society after seven years, kidnapped and kept by the now famous child kidnapper of London, and they are displeased about it."

Abberline sat momentarily shocked. "H-how…"

"My brother has spies everywhere, even in Scotland Yard, Inspector. I do not know the manner in how he learned of your investigation, only that he knows, and that he entered Scotland Yard soon after you left."

"He entered Scotland Yard? But the night watchman would have prevented him from entry."

"Money speaks, Mr. Abberline. And the Von Strauss family is very wealthy. And in these uncertain economical times, any manner of wealth received is a blessing to those in need, even police officers."

Abberline couldn't argue with that. "Who was he going to see?"

"Your police commissioner, Sir Arthur Randall. He and my brother are acquaintances, but they have not been for long. They met by accident during a case late last year and have struck up an accord. Although, I am aware that your police commissioner does not like my brother, as in so, tolerates their association."

Abberline was pleased to hear that. If Sir Randall was involved with this _Illuminati_ cult, he would seriously have to change his perception of the police commissioner.

"Displeased in what way?" Abberline then addressed something pervious Spencer had said.

"As mentioned, Thann, my brother and his associates - for which I greatly dislike their practices but I am privy to, notwithstanding my father being one of their elite members - do not like your investigation into the boy, Lukas Phantomhive. They believe Scotland Yard should remain neutral, that Sir Randall closed the case to his satisfaction, and to allow the issue to settle as it is. And I believe this is why my brother is visiting your police commissioner now, to have him stop you. From my understanding, Ciel Phantomhive even asked that the case be closed?"

Abberline acknowledged this. Ciel _had_ asked that the case be closed. Abberline had only recently deduced that the family wanted to catch the child kidnapper of London on their own, to revenge for what he had done to Lukas. But Abberline seriously condemned this. "This is something I am engaged in of my own free will," he said. "I am dedicated to helping parents with children gone missing. And Lukas Phantomhive is a large part of the case. I plan on having a family of my own someday and _I_ do not believe the case is officially closed, just put on ice, so to speak, until more information is forthcoming."

"Your dedication to safety and security of London is commendable, Inspector, but you are forcing issues to the surface that should remain buried."

"What is this cult?"

"The _Illuminati_ are a powerful group of people with political and economic ties in some, if not all, of London's institutions and indeed around the known world. Without an in depth history, they were formed many years prior by certain men who felt the world needed to be orderly - their order. Thus, throughout the years, they have coordinated with others around the world who hold their values in trust. And to those who are aware of them, they put their stamp in places to announce their presence in social circles, meeting to discuss their methods in secret, engaging in ceremonies of a somewhat despicable manner, and sometimes participate in orgies with girls that have been supposedly possessed by malevolent spirits for greater pleasure, who willfully give their bodies over to them. This they believe brings them closer to their gods. Furthermore - "

"Enough!" Abberline said. "I fail to believe that men of a civilized society behave in such a way."

"Then you are naïve, Inspector," Spencer said flatly. "I have seen and -" he cleared his throat, "- have participated in one of these orgasmic ceremonies with these girls later sacrificed to demonic entities for knowledge beyond the ages. But this happened when I was younger and when I was stupid, believing it was commonplace because I was brought up with my father and brother involved. Only when my sister became one of these sacrifices did I forsake the _Illuminati_ and discredit them. I suppose I have not been killed because I keep quiet and I am the _son_ of an elite member, but I can stay quiet no longer. Therefore your life and mine will be in danger after everything I will tell you, and there is a lot."

The unfortunate mention of the word _son_ struck Abberline with a familiar cord. In this day and age, women were often looked upon as secondary citizens and were not deemed as important as males, because males could provide a direct linage; daughters could not, their last names changed to their suitors. Spencer's sister raped and this killed in this orgy by the _Illuminati_ was proof of this, and Abberline gathered Spencer's morality trumped that more than his father's association with this cult, and maybe was the reason why he had come to Abberline. The lad probably wanted to stop the slaughter of the innocent and give justice to his sister, since Abberline was conducting his own investigation into similar facets of illegality.

"But what does Lukas Phantomhive and the child kidnapper of London have to do with the _Illuminati_?"

"A great deal, Inspector. A great deal."

* * *

When the servants had learned of Sebastian taking ill, after they had awaken to begin their duties, in the early hours of the morning, they aided where they could, providing comfort to the unconscious butler - a pillow under the his head and a blanket to cover his body. But Sebastian was not moved from Lukas's bedchambers. He was dutifully cared for, a complete roll reversal in regards to Sebastian's duties.

But Ciel and Lukas didn't tell them of the real reason Sebastian was laid out, only that he had fainted from being overworked. This was Lukas's idea and Ciel could feel a lot of unfavorable eyes looking at the back of his head. Ciel was indeed a "warmonger" when it came to completing one's daily duties and the entire staff knew it, working hard and receiving little respect for their efforts, as if it were expected.

Lukas knew Ciel didn't care what the staff thought of him; he was their master. Nothing more, nothing less. Lukas was also their master now, but he and his brother often fought on issues, especially when it came to the staff and doing things independently without relaying so much on the staff. This philosophy of independence, Lukas assumed, was inbred in him by Bryon Kelvin, who often ordered him to undertake missions of assassination - and in doing so, Lukas had to think on his feet and do things on his own to complete the mission. So in a sense, Bryon Kelvin infused this deep sense of independence in him that he often tried to infuse in his brother, without success.

Lately, Lukas had laid off on arguing, and he vowed it would be one of his new years resolutions. Fighting in front of the staff caused a loss of respect - and an unhappy house was a less productive house. So Lukas had decided to be the better person and concede to Ciel for the most part, and if they strongly disagreed on something, he decided to summarily come up with alternatives to aid in the most suitable and logical solution to the problem, albeit his brother's stubbornness that _his_ word is divine.

"Oh dear, Sebastian really has been working hard - yes, he has; he never seems to get any rest," Mey-Rin said, fully dressed in her maid uniform.

She was a ditzy sort of woman, but loyal to the Phantomhive household. She tried her best in her duties but often broke things and screwed up in her duties, but she was an excellent marksman and protector of the family when called upon. The maid façade was merely that. And the glasses Sebastian had given her - although she always claimed Ciel did - emphasized her fake persona, like a spell.

She lifted the blanket to Sebastian's shoulders that she had brought out from Lukas's linen closet, then stood up and fixed her big, round glasses. "I hope he feels better."

"Yes, I always see him moving about," Finny agreed, as he and Bardroy stood at the bed chambers door. "Why won't see wake up, masters'?

Finnian, or Finny as the house called him, was a young Irish gardener that was super strong. It was still unclear how he acquired his strength, enough to lift large heavy objects and throw them long distances, but it was speculated that it may have been chemically induced. If so, it should have worn off without further doses, but it had not, and was forever a part of him in a repeated cycle of regeneration. He was exceptionally loyal to the Phantomhive household, because from what he remembered, he was always caged or trapped and was unable to go outside, so as the gardener, and him being a somewhat inept one, he was able to spend a great deal outside, which made him happy, and when called upon, he would use his super strength to help defend the mansion from invader or intruders.

And the same thing could be said about Bardroy, the cook. However inept in cooking, he was a former infantry man who defied orders from a military commander. He remained back in the trenches, while his commander and others marched forwards during a battle he never named. For this, he was court marshaled for dereliction of duty, but he was the only one that survived a vicious onslaught of bombs and artillery. Sebastian brought him to the mansion for his skills and also made him cook. Some of his meals were very good, other times, especially when he was pressed for time, were burnt beyond edible.

Lukas gave a brief glance to Ciel, then said, "We don't know, Finny," he lied. "But it is best to watch out for him and keep him comfortable until he finds his way back."

"Back from where, sir?" Finny asked.

Lukas observed a curious expression on the young gardener's face when he looked back at him and cursed himself mentally for saying: _"…until he finds his way back._" Renfrew Phantomhive had caused Sebastian to fall into an unconsciousness to_ "…learn the error of his ways."_ The ghost never explained this statement.

Lukas had not seen the ghost since he had chided it back into the hollow darkness from which it came.

"He means when Sebastian awakes from his rest," Ciel said plainly, nodding at Lukas. Lukas returned the nod, thanking his brother mentally for saving him from explaining himself in his momentary mistake. "Sebastian will be well in good order. In the meantime, return to your duties. We will inform you of his condition when information becomes available. Dismissed." They did so. "Tanaka, you stay."

Tanaka turned back to face them. "Can I be of any service, young lords?" The elderly butler stood tall. "Should I call a physician to attend the mansion?"

"A physician will not be necessary, but we do require the Undertaker," Lukas said.

"Oh my, is he…"

Lukas shook his hand in a quick gesture as he saw the elder butler's reaction to his mention of the Undertaker, in another a faux pas he made. "He isn't dying, Tanaka, but we _do_ need his services in another regard, and he may be able to help revive Sebastian, as well."

"Is Sebastian really that bad?"

"Please have the Undertaker attend at his earliest convenience, Tanaka," Ciel said, without explanation.

Tanaka slightly bowed, then left the chambers to make a phone call.

Ciel said, "Do you believe that what the Undertaker did for you, helping you restore a good portion of your memory with bringing you close to death, may heed to Sebastian's case?"

Lukas nodded. "You knew what I was thinking, brother."

"But _he_ is a Reaper with an obsession with death, Sebastian is a demon - they hate each other."

"That is correct, but I believe the Undertaker will come. Salem owns _me_ a favor." Lukas smiled smugly.

"A favor? If I am to understand, _you_ owe him a favor."

"When I was Bryon Kelvin's assassin, _Number Six _- let's just say, I could have killed him. But did not. Like Fallen Reapers and angelic beings, I know how to kill them. I was taught so. But the Undertaker said if I attempted to fulfill my mission, he would murder _Father_,using his Reaper powers, thus granting Bryon Kelvin and all his associates clemency for as long as I was alive."

"By whom were you taught this?" Ciel's left eye widened, stunned with surprise but also intrigued.

"I know what you are thinking, brother. Once Sebastian has fulfilled his contract to you, you could kill him with the knowledge I possess and continue to live."

"Do not make assumptions, Lukas. I merely inquired." Ciel narrowed his right eye, as if to hide a truth. "Notwithstanding, you did tell me that the ghost mentioned you placed his old master into hibernation, saving him, releasing Renfrew's spirit. He is now indebted to you. Do you remember _now_ how this occurred and for what reason?"

"No."

"I would like to speak with this spirit and ask him this."

"So you can trap Sebastian?"

"Once more you assume I have malicious intentions, Lukas. I only wish to know so we may use it against Renfrew unless he restores Sebastian back to us."

Lukas nodded. It was a good plan in theory, but he was still suspicious of his brother's intentions. "I cast him away, but he did say that he would be watching. When Salem arrives, I will attempt to summon Renfrew and hopefully we can broker some questions from him."

"And what could _we_ possibly broker a ghost _with_?"

"Think brother, what does everyone eventually desire in the end?"

Ciel thought for a moment. "Release from wrecked damnation?"

Lukas smiled.

_Ironic,_ he thought, _that that would be your answer. Much like you are damned to the Faustian covenant for which you entered in with Sebastian to have revenge on all those who did you wrong, you secretly desire to be free of it, and live after the covenant has been fulfilled._

"You and I are sometimes of one mind, brother, and that is frightening of its own rite," he said, continuing to smile. "You are correct. And I can grant Renfrew Phantomhive this wish, if he so desires it. He says he has vowed to protect me and is guardian to a secret hidden deep inside my mind, that _he says _isso important that he has rendered Sebastian unconscious because Sebastian attempted to release it. I will ask Salem to pluck the pass-phrase from my unconscious mind and open this door, releasing this hidden secret. Then Renfrew will be free and his power over Sebastian will be gone."

"What of this old master that Renfrew said you put into hibernation? Perhaps this secret refers to him?"

"I believe this is a farce, but if it is true, then we will deal with it - _him_ - when the situation arises."

**To be continued...**


	7. Beginnings

_**CHAPTER 7 - "BEGINNINGS"**_

The pain Damascus was feeling was horrendous.

The falling ash burned his skin and the heat scorched his muscles, it even singed his once soft, beautiful blonde locks to near nothingness. Smoke blanketed the sky as the volcano Vesuvius had erupted only minutes before with an such force and with such devastation that everyone in Pompeii had thought the world itself had exploded. When the ground beneath their feet shook with such violence, it was as if the gods had forsaken, giving them to the fiery depths of _Tartarus_ for their lack of worship.

Damascus had known the city's true nature, but he had chosen to turn a blind eye. But apparently the Gods had not! The Gods were always watching, always witness to the city's inhabitants - to what everyone was doing and to whom they were doing it to. And this, he had decided, was the city's punishment for defying the Gods benevolent kindness that was bestowed upon this once peaceful bay city.

Chaos, destruction and total devastation incarnate _was_ Pompeii now!

Pompeii was a lude, dissentient and sexually decrepit place, filled with adulterers, cretins, charlatans, thieves and many men and women of a crude and self-arrogant nature. Oh, some _were_ honest, hard working people, like Damascus's parents, but most of Pompeii's citizens were immigrants from other regions of Rome and had become complacent in their ways, defying the Gods, engaging in licentious and lecherous deeds of a self-supplying wrought - and the Gods hated not being worshipped!

Much like another civilization in the ancient past who then tried to conquer other lands - Pompeii was not building an army - but they _were_ part of the greatest empire the world knew: Rome, said to be cruel to and violent people. And Christians condemned it, often crucified for their belief in one god - _The_ God, who believed in peace and understanding and equality among the masses. And this "natural" destruction was the Christian God's way of taking "revenge" on those who prosecuted so many of his faithful children, despite his teachings forbid such an act. But like all God's, they were known to change their mind on a whim.

Damascus didn't know and didn't care, but suffered like the rest.

His mother and father were dead, killed by falling debris - fiery boulders launched out of the neck of the volcano, soaring high into the air, through the clouds that masked the sky, then fell down into the blackness that encompassed the city - crushed to death, their bodies incinerated in seconds in their own home.

Damascus had managed to survive his parents fate by the volcano because he was outside at the time, only to run away into a field that quickly burst into flame, showered by tiny, whistling meteors falling from the sky - his body burning, his clothes chard black as soot, his skin melting from the intense heat. And he tried to crawl to the water's edge of the bay to soak himself. But he body hurt; tears crusted up the moment water formed, his left eye bubbling whiteness down his face from exploding inside his skull from the heat.

And yet, he was still alive.

He crawled, and crawled, using his arms and elbows to dig into the soil, his legs burnt and black and no longer working. He had been hit by a piece of iron in the spine that had been flung at him, when a tiny, fiery stone dropped from the sky, and he feared that the impact had shattered his vertebra from the waist down. He knew he had urinated, his bladder no longer able to hold any liquids like the rest of his body; the heat soaking it all up as soon as any liquids escaped.

And yet, he was still alive.

His right eye was quickly going blind, skin melting over the iris. He could see the bay and tried to reach out for it, but his strength left him and he fell face first into the black, burnt soil. The pain he felt was excruciating and agonizing, but tried to press on. He knew the sea was life and if he could reach it, even if he died in its embrace, his body would ride its currents forever - forever swimming; what he enjoyed best.

But his strength left him, and he screamed out - or tried to - his mouth parched with ash and soot, dry. His throat burning inside his chest from the awful heat surrounding him. All he wanted was for it to be over, to die with dignity. Instead of being naked, black and burned, and being covered with ash, forever buried, forever lost - like what he remembered Pompeii being for nearly two thousand years before excavated by archaeologists in the late 18th century.

Even with all his injuries that would kill a normal person, the pain and the suffering that he was experiencing, the gods would not take him, or did not want him…or _he_ did he not _want_ to go? Up to now, at twelve years old, he had always considered himself a strongly-willed person, independent, and self-reliant, but not even he could stand this much pain and suffering. A person had his limits.

And yet, he was still alive.

And he knew why.

_He_ was coming.

_The man _walked through the fire and destruction of the volcano's fiery carnage, his boots crunching the black burnt and melted soil underfoot, but the heat and flames did not touch him, nor faze his approach. He was clothed in a dark shroud and hood and came to stand in front of Damascus, then crouched.

"Dear child, why has God forsaken such a sweet boy?"

He then removed his hood and a human face with thick, angelic white hair emerged. The beautiful looking man smiled at Damascus with skin as perfect as a statue could be, without blemishes or marks of any kind, save but one - a two to three inch scar over his left eye, but that did not inhabit his vision at all or his handsomeness, albeit even enhanced it. He wore all black clothing, but nothing covering his hands. Although his finger nails were as black as night.

"Do you wish to live boy? Or shall you lie in agony and pain never knowing when it will end?" Damascus could not speak anything. "Just think it boy and I will know your desire."

But it was too hard to think with all the pain.

The man held out a coin and presented it to Damascus, placing it inside Damascus's out-stretched hand that he had lain towards the bay.

Damascus squeezed it as hard as he could and looked upon the man, smiling as best he could with appreciation, his face burned severely. He thought the man was giving him a coin as payment for the ferry man for the River Styx, to carry him into the afterlife. It was a Greek belief, but a lot of Roman's believed in it and _many_ Roman beliefs derived from Greek myths, thus this one was kept as well. Damascus thought the man was giving him payment for the ferry man, knowing he would die soon, and that Damascus was a kind, hearted soul and deserved to have his soul carried to the underworld without inhabitation. It was said without money to pay the ferry man, a soul would be trapped in purgatory, either for one-hundred years on the shore of the River Styx or forever at unrest. Legend be told, you must pay your way or be left behind.

"No boy, I am not giving your payment for Kharon of the River Styx; I am giving you a choice," the man said. "If you wish to live and live in perfect health, then give the coin back to me. If you chose to die, I will take them back and ask another, and you will wander for all eternality. There are so many others to ask."

Damascus could heard the screams of many of Pompeii's citizens. The sky was black as night, ash fell down from the heavens, and the constant whistling of falling debris filled the air. But this man stayed clean, as if the darkness was his home and the ash would not dare touch him, burning to nothing before it reached him. Was this Hades or Pluto in disguise or some other "god" offering to save him for his faith?

He didn't care, he wanted to live, and opened his hand.

The man smiled, taking the coin. "Very good, boy. For your honestly, I will grant you ever-lasing life."

Damascus looked upon the man with shock and awe, for those were the words of the Christian god, preached by the faithful and chastised by Roman archetype for blaspheme. Did he just make a deal with _that_ god? In any regard, it resulted in death. The Emperor advised that the Christian's were tricksters, that their one sole god was nothing more than a fictitious being that had no power, no substance, and was a deceiver.

Had he just been tricked? Now the man had the coin meant for Kharon, the ferry man.

Damascus's hand twitched like a claw and he used all the rest of his strength to try to grab the coin back from the man, but without success and falling flat on his face.

"Excellent boy, you have great strength in you. You will do nicely."

And with a snap of two fingers, the world changed.

One moment it was hell's fire and brimstone -

- the next moment, Damascus and the man were it was a grassy hill top, basking over a field of serenity, with the sun brimming with a warm gentleness overhead like a beacon in the sky, and many birds singing their beautiful songs; nature in all its glory surrounding him with its stunning beautification.

Damascus still lain on the ground where he was only moments prior in a field of ash and soot, and the man was still crouched in front of him, smiling, like he was only moments prior.

The field he lain in was flat and free of _any_ civilization as far as he could see from his vantage point, but when he looked around, he could have sworn he saw a familiar sight: a circular bay near a sandy shore, where he used to run and play with friends, naked, to swim and splash in its calm, warm waters. And the area was familiar, as well, and yet not, at the same time, as there were no buildings of any sort in this place, or docks in a harbor that carried supplies…

Damascus jumped too his feet - looked at his hands, then at his arms, his chest, and then down the rest of his body, and felt his face. He was free of burns and uninjured in any way. He was without clothes, but he was no longer burned, black and he was fully mobile, his back repaired. His spine was completely healed. He could also see out of his right eye. It was a miracle - and this man had saved him from a horrible fate? The only difference Damascus now saw with himself was his finger and toenails, black as night.

The man rose to his full height. He was tall, but Damascus was shorter, so the man looked taller. In his hand was the coin the man had taken from Damascus, or rather, the man had tricked him out of. He had not noticed before, but the coin did not have the emblem of the Emperor but a different marking: a five pointed star with what looked like a ram's head in the middle. Damascus looked up at the man curious about it.

"It is _His_ sign, my dear boy, you are now a part of _Him_, as am I, as are all of his minions," the man said. The man placed his hand on Damascus's naked chest with the coin touching. For a few agonizing seconds, the coin sunk into Damascus's chest - but he did not flinch an inch. The man removed his hand. "It is now attached to your heart, child. If you attempt to remove it, you will return to that _hell_ I took you from. Call it a covenant between us. I will teach you, train you - you will become my apprentice, and as you grow, _you_ will then take an apprentice and teach him, to continue the line of _His_ lineage."

Damascus put a hand to his chest, but there was no marking indicating of the coin's entry. The man waved a hand across Damascus body and suddenly a black tunic covered him with black sandals on his feet.

"Now, what do you say?"

Damascus placed an arm across his chest. He had once seen a Roman soldier do it to pay homage and respect to the Emperor and it was very well received. So he copied it, and bowed. "Thank you, Master. Thank you for saving my life. I will endeavor to enact your will to the best of my abilities." He knew now that he was much like a servant to a wealthy nobleman or a senator, but he _was_ very appreciative.

"I am sure you will," the man said.

"May I be so bold as to inquire my Master's name?"

The man turned and appeared to gaze out upon the glassy bay of water in a moment of contemplation, his thick angelic hair blowing in a slight breeze, his dark shroud covering his entire body as if he were cold. It was indeed cold, even to Damascus, and strangely enough, he wished for someplace a lot warmer.

And as he looked around, his Master not immediately responding to his askance, Damascus finally realized why this place looked so familiar - the location, the bay, and the sandy shore. This was indeed Pompeii, but now buried and overgrown with foliage and fauna. The entire city and its habitants forever gone beneath the coverage of ash and soot, and the giant volcano looming in the distance, a veil of think fog now revealing its immense presence, hidden before. It was Vesuvius with a severely damaged and distorted neck.

They were a few years into the future from when the natural disaster occurred, and nature had now swallowed Pompeii up into its belly. It was as if the city never existed. The only reminder of his home was the shell of its former glory Vesuvius towering above, half of it blown away in its massive eruption, now sleeping.

He remembered this - this was how it all began for him. Renfrew Phantomhive was making him relive his past inside his mind, and it was all happening exactly as he remembered it.

But this was only the beginning of his two thousand year journey up until he met Ciel Phantomhive.

He didn't need to hear his master's name, he already knew it, but at this point of his _beginnings_, he did ask it, and he listened to his master when he spoke it.

"To those who know of me, I am known as _Belial_."

**To be continued…**


	8. An Unlikely Partnership

_**CHAPTER EIGHT - "AN UNLIKELY PARTNERSHIP"**_

A secret underground chamber hidden deep beneath the Lazarus mansion in the England countryside was barren except for one thing: the mummified corpse of Johnny Lazarus, son of Wilhelm Lycan Lazarus III.

The body of the ten year old boy was wrapped in bandages much like the ancient Egyptians did to their honored dead and covered in honey sap to preserve tissue from decaying and adorned with jewels, which was the ceremonious religious "fee" to be presented to the ancient gods as gifts for passage into the Underworld. And the boy lain on an alter with torch light dancing throughout this rather large square room, much like an ancient tomb, the light from the torches illuminating the room brightly.

The alter and the walls were made with white marble and carved on their surface were integrate Christian and other symbols of life.

Wilhelm believed in the Holy Trinity - _the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost_. And he believed in angelic beings and demons, for you can not have a Heavenly Father and a Dark Lord without their minions. Wilhelm had never seen either one, but he knew they existed and knew that a demon had slaughtered his dead precious boy during a horrific ceremony of sacrifice by men of a sadistic and sinister nature.

When his son had been kidnapped by the now infamous child kidnapper of London, despite this man's identity still unknown, Wilhelm had begged that every resource at his deposal be utilized to find him. But when it was learned that a familiar, but secretive group of men who sought to undermine the Crown by methods of their own madness, had "purchased" his son from the kidnapper, and then learned of his demise by some "otherworldly" being that the _Inner Circle_ had summoned from the dark reaches of Hell, he condemned them all to a fate worse than death!

Five members of the original group had survived because they were unable to attend the sacrificial ceremony that night, later called _the Great Death_.

Wilhelm then hired two notorious serial killers to murder the rest of the Inner Circle in their own amphitheatre, where the ceremony had taken place, through the services of an known, criminally-inclined, associate named Mathu Kelvin.

However, despite his well-profiled associations with many of the underground criminal affiliates in and around London, Mathu Kelvin, nephew of Bryon Kelvin, a recluse philanthropist, had not been seen in months, along with Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt, the two serial killers had had hired to murder the Inner Circle members. And his spies did not know where they had gone underground.

He was made aware of an incident at the Phantomhive mansion some months back involving the last remaining heirs to the Phantomhive name - Ciel and Lukas Phantomhive, and their very well-do-to butler - and ever since then, these three men had not been seen since. Feared dead. And involved in something far more sinister than anyone could have imagined.

Everyone except Wilhelm.

Wilhelm knew these men had attended the ceremony and somehow survived and were granted clemency if they would kill the remaining Inner Circle members. They agreed, although Wilhelm noticed they did not fear death - as if the concept of death was beyond them any longer. They were questioned about the Great Death, but neither could provide any concrete details of what really happened. Except that each of them feel the presence of evil when the slaughter began.

They did, however, notice one child missing in the carnage: Ciel Phantomhive. And he now presided with a mysterious butler at his side, and most recently, his fraternal brother, Lukas, reemerging after seven long years being _somewhere_. Although, he was very tight-lipped about the whole affair of being missing. He only said that he had amnesia of those years and was unable to identify the man who kidnapped him, and who may have murdered his parent's five years later, kidnapping his brother, and so on…

Wilhelm knew that Lukas Phantomhive was keeping secrets and Wilhelm wanted to know them all.

The _Illuminati _didn't know everything, but what they didn't know, they learned and dealt with accordingly, and that included the very entity that murdered his dear son Johnny - Sebastian Michaelis, the demon that came through the gateway, summoned by the Inner Circle, who also made a covenant with Ciel Phantomhive - one of vengeance and malice, to kill all those who did his family wrong!

How did he know all this? Someone close to the family had revealed everything to him.

Thann Von Strauss knew all this and more. As an intermediary for the _Illuminati_, he was charged with learning what the group needed to know.

But even he could be surprised with the information he sought - namely that a certain Scotland Yard inspector had been more active than originally thought. First-Inspector Frederick Abberline had been snooping into areas that were not his to enter. If it kept up, the man needed to be silenced. Yet that would be the decision of the _Illuminati_, not his.

This was not the reason why he had come to the Lazarus mansion this night, after "visiting" with Scotland Yard's police commission Sir Arthur Randall. He had come to the Lazarus mansion on an entirely separate matter that _he_ felt Lazarus needed to be versed on, along with the _Illuminati_ alumni. It was a matter of grave importance, and one that Strauss felt needed immediate addressing and discussion. But that, too, would be the for _Illuminati_ to decide, whereas Lazarus would pass it on to the rest of the group, if it could not be handled by him alone.

Strauss knew his place, even if his father was one of the alumni, and even if he knew the _Illuminati's_ English branch leader on a personal level - the very person he was visiting now.

The horse and carriage with its driver took him up and through the winding gravel roadway to the mansion and it stopped at the front entrance. Here, Strauss stepped out of the carriage and walked to the door, knocking twice. Moments later, an elderly man dressed in a butler uniform, welcomed him inside. Strauss didn't need to introduce himself, for Victor, Lazarus's butler, knew him well.

"May I take you coat, Herr Thann?" Strauss did so, as he stood in the main vestibule. The term "Herr" was German for "Mister" and Victor had always used it to pay homage to Strauss's German heritage, and he liked it. "The Master is awaiting you in the chamber, but he was been expecting you much sooner."

"There was a delay, I had to pick up something," Strauss said, patting a black satchel that hung on his right hip with a strap across his chest.

Victor sniffed, there was the smell of meat in the air. "Ah, of course. Playtime as usual."

Strauss smirked amused.

Strauss was escorted to the library, then left alone. He stood in the middle of a large library.

He took a moment to gaze around at the vast volumes of reference books on dozens of shelves that reached from floor to ceiling within the room. A rolling ladder was needed to reach the higher books. It was rumored that Lazarus had the largest collection of first editions and scarce works known in the world, including items of great scientific and religious importance, even some one-of-a-kind Hebrew scrolls, found bordering Israeli and the shores of Jordan, that had not been dated yet.

An archaeologist had found these scrolls somewhere in the west bank of the _Dead Sea_. The archaeologist was only able to acquire a few from a cave before a rockslide covered the entrance, killing him and hiding the cave, although rumors had it that a large explosion was heard just before the rockslide. As if to hide the find. Strauss knew the truth. Wilhelm had indeed done so when he find out what was on the scrolls.

Wilhelm figuratively referred to the scrolls he possessed as the _Dead Sea Scrolls_, and they included Psalms of text written in Hebrew, for which he could speak fluently, raised with a Jewish heritage, but like Strauss, was raised in England, immigrating to England when Wilhelm was only five - and then changed his name to "blend" in, and only the Illuminati knew his true heritage.

Foreigners were often chided upon, often blamed for England's financial and sociological woes, as if the implementation of inferior blood poisons their culture. What a load of bollocks.

In these _particular_ scrolls read secrets that Wilhelm planned to use to resurrect his son.

Strauss stepped to a book shelf and began to search for something, the book he needed to pull back to activate a hidden door behind a book shelf wall. He found the book - and with one yank of _Dante's Inferno_, the shelving unit slid back and then sideways to reveal an open metal lift. He opened an thin, iron protective gate and stepped in. He closed the gate, grabbed hold of a metal lever on a half-moon rotation on the left inside of the lift, pulled it all the way, and the lift began to descend slowly, as the book shelf automatically returned to its basic position.

As the lift descended down to the chamber below the mansion, Strauss momentarily in total darkness, he smiled to himself, for his descend in total darkness was of a symbolic nature of his life. He had dedicated himself to the "darkness" long ago and to the practices of the _Illuminati_, even before he had raped his sister and watched her be sacrificed by the _Illuminati_.

But he had concerns about his younger brother, Spencer, who had once been a member of the _Illuminati_, but now, most recently, had decided denouncing its practices.

He, too, had been at this same ceremony where his sister had been raped and sacrificed. He had not participated in raping his sister, but Spencer had engaged in organism sessions on prior occasions. Thann had figured that by the death of his sister, Spencer found the _Illuminati_ reprehensible and this is what caused him to leave. This had displeased their father immensely. And their father had secretly told Thann, if it was ever revealed that Spencer had began to tell others of the secrets of the _Illuminati_…

Thann had said he would take care of it.

When the lift stopped, Strauss open the iron gate at the bottom and stepped out into a large circular vestibule with a marble statue of young Johnny Lazarus at age ten years old, before he was killed. It was specially chiseled to Wilhelm's specifications and presented the boy in a shining brilliance, giving him the ascension to that of a Greek warrior, soldier or god, who had performed a glorious deed for his nation.

Lazarus had loved the boy. Johnny was a miracle baby. Doctors had said that he could not have children, and he and his wife Linda, had tried, tried, tried. Until one day, Linda became pregnant, and nine months later, a beautiful, healthy boy was born. This is where Lazarus began exceptionally religious. Where nature and genetics had made him sterile, _God_ had given him the precious gift of a son. And he was so proud of Johnny, who grew to sprout an angelic head of whitish-blonde hair, which Lazarus took as another sign of God's grace upon him - and Lazarus belief that Johnny was an angel.

And afterwards, his utter hatred of Sebastian Michaelis, the demon _bastard_ who murdered him!

But Lazarus had apparently been busy in Strauss's month absence in visiting this underground chamber. Apart from the lift, and apart from a second antechamber that housed the alter with Johnny's mummified body that looked straight upon the lift on the other side of the statue, there were six additional doors spread at equal intervals within the vestibule.

There was also something _else_ new, that only now Strauss noticed on the platform of the statue, and it was written in Hebrew sand-script writing. It translated to: "_The Seventh Circle of Hell_", referring to _Dante's Inferno,_ and for which was indicative of Lazarus's hatred of the murder of his son towards his wanting of revenge against the demon who killed Johnny with malignant malice and forthright.

The Seventh Circle of Hell

was where the worse of humanity resided in Hell. The seventh circle detailed Violence; and in the tale, it is told that this is where _Alexander the Great _is immersed up to his neck, for all the blood he shed over his reign, conquering the known world.

In Dante's story, there are nine circles. The last two being Fraud and Treachery. But there were only seven doors present, including the one leading to the antechamber. The other four included a basic, but detailed retelling of the first four of the Seven Deadly Sins.

"Choose a door, my friend," a voice echoed the vestibule.

Strauss followed the voice and looked directly at a small sleuth shaft in the upper part of a wall. In ancient Egypt, this not only worked as air ventilation into the lower chambers of pyramids, but also as a way of communication to those in other chambers or to the outside, as a voice can be carried a long way without inhabitation. But he knew Lazarus was behind the door that housed his son.

Yet all the doors looked alike, iron in construction, with a vertical iron handle.

"I hate playing games, Lazarus." Strauss cupped his hands on his hips, not moving.

"Humor me."

Strauss rolled his eyes with frustration and then gazed around and chose a door at random.

He took hold of the handle and opened it.

Inside was an empty chamber illuminated by torch light. A small air shaft inside brought in oxygen for the fire to remain lit; however, on the wall was something carved: an emblem or symbol raised within a square. He stepped inside and examined it closely. A winged angel. Recalling the story of Dante's Inferno, he recollected the Fifth Circle of Hell was guarded by _Fallen_ Angels. And the fifth level was Wrath.

"Why are you angry, my friend?"

Strauss snapped his attention to the air shaft.

"How do you know which door I chose?"

"I am aware of a great many things, Thann. Often our subconscious reflects out inner most feelings outward even when we try to bury them deep inside. This is also referred to body language."

"You're one to talk about that, Lazarus," Strauss said. But all he received a laugh. Strauss stepped out back into the vestibule. "Now, which room are you in! Everything looks the same." He thought he knew before, but now he wasn't sure. And something was missing, that now he just took notice of. Where was -

Suddenly the platform of Johnny Lazarus's statue began to scrap along the floor, opening up a chamber beneath. From its depths, jumped out a fully grown white and black-striped tiger - and it looked hungry. It was said _the Seventh Circle for Hell _was guarded by the Minotaur, a mythological creature half man/half bull - but a vicious, imposing tiger was good enough.

It growled and roared at him, and Strauss backed away, watching it circle him, exposing its sharp fangs. But Strauss had expected this and the reason why he had been delayed when coming here. He reached into the satchel he had brought with him and took out a large piece of meat, throwing it at the tiger. In reality, the tiger knew him quite well and this was its _way_ of welcoming him.

He was Lazarus's pet, named Cerberus, and the animal was always with his master.

It devoured the meat in quick form and then purred.

Strauss petted the animal on the head, and the _click_ sounded, indicating a door had been unlocked. Strauss ventured to this door and opened it, stepping inside, with Cerberus walking in ahead of him, going to his master, and then sitting proper.

Inside, Lazarus was standing on the other side of the alter with Johnny's body in its mummified state, within the square antechamber, in his hands was one, aged-faded scroll. On a shelving unit next to a wall were three more. The walls themselves harbored Christian symbols of death and rebirth, including a sizable crucifix on the centre wall. Also, on one wall, which was new was, was an Egyptian symbol called "the Eye of Horus" which meant "the risen one" (an open eye, highlighted in bold black), but for which Lazarus admired this civilization with its culture and monumental structures, all built with man's strength and faith.

As legend went the symbol represents sacrifice, healing, restoration and protection.

Horus had a brother named Seth who was jealous of his power and attempted to kill him. He did so, cutting him up into many pieces and tossing them throughout the Egyptian landscape. The pieces were found by a follower of Horus and reassembled, including Horus left eye - Seth had first tried to blind him. Horus then became the guardian of the underworld when he could no longer return to the land of the living. The Eye of Horus is set to ward off evil. Or this is how the story went as far as Strauss had been told.

History also told of Christianity's rise - and how followers of the faith finally eliminated the last of the old Egyptian faith practices believing they were blasphemy to a belief in _the _God, instead of several _gods_, and murdered the six priests praying in their temple, said to be the last of their line. This then ended the reign of the Egyptian faith, and the followers of God burned the temple and other vestiges to this faith.

With death comes rebirth, Strauss knew. Out with old and in with the new, like many cultures and civilizations throughout the ages.

It was said that Jesus Christ rose after three days after he was crucified on a cross by Romans, and later, a devote follower of Christ's wrote down how _his_ resurrection was achieved. This secret, Strauss waged, was in these scrolls Lazarus had, and why he felt it had been important to destroy the cavern that had been found in and kill the archaeologist who had found them. Only Lazarus wanted this secret.

Wilhelm Lycan Lazarus was an average-size man of middle-age, but with full head of white hair. And he always dressed completely in black, contracting his hair. The light and dark. Life and death. And ever since the death of Johnny, Lazarus had been in mourning for him.

His wife, Linda, had left him, when, according to her, he began to act with obsessive behavior, preaching one day Johnny will live again after the archaeologist found the scrolls.

The _Illuminati_ catered to his whims, albeit fearing he was emotionally unstable.

But he never shirked from his duties as head of the English branch of the _Illuminati _chapter, so they endured him. It was only lately that when Lazarus's extra activities were becoming a concern for the rest and Strauss had been sent to evaluate him, which was the matter of great importance.

On the floor was make-shift bedding. Lazarus had taken to sleeping in the room with his dead son. The entire room was brightly lit with torch light. With the advent of electricity to the public, Strauss wondered why Lazarus had not build in underground lights.

"Welcome back, Thann," Lazarus greeted him. "What decision greets me from your lips from the Illuminati? Have they decided to oust me?"

"And why would you say that? That you say you can do the impossible?"

Lazarus chuckled, and rolled up the scroll and placed it on the shelf with the others.

"I am close, Thann. The power to resurrect my son will soon be in my hands. All the pieces are falling into place, every one." Lazarus passed a hand across the length of his son's body. "Johnny will live again. And I will have my vengeance upon that _damn_ demon!"

"So the butler is - "

But before Strauss could finish, a ghostly mist came through the wall, and quickly formed into the a translucent blue figure of a young boy. The ghost stood between the pair, but Strauss was unafraid of it. He had met Renfrew Phantomhive on a number of occasions. And if he was here, then he had successfully accomplished the task he had set out to do.

"Ah, if it isn't my favorite ghost," Lazarus said.

"The demon is subdued, you can collect him at any time," Renfrew said curtly. Lazarus knew Renfrew had no liking of him. "And the staff will be of no bother, they are weak humans."

"Very good, Renfrew. You have done me well."

"But remember our deal, Lazarus!"

Lazarus smiled broadly, but it had a hint of sadistic nature to it. "Of course. You deliver the demon, I resurrect my son, and you are redeemed in the eyes of God. The slate of your sin absolved."

Renfrew scowled. "How you learned of me and of my _sin_, I do not know, but when I learned of what you claimed can be done, our partnership was formed. But do not test my good nature, Lazarus. I detest you and all that your group of people stand for."

"How we carry ourselves is of no concern to you. Do you job and you will be set free."

Renfrew nodded. "But heed my warning. Do not harm Lukas Phantomhive when you go after the demon. I took a vow to protect him long before I met you, and if you choose to fault on our deal, I will have no choice but to intervene. This vow stands absolute!"

Lazarus laughed. "I assure you, ghost, your vow does not conflict with my goals. All I want is the demon, nothing more. With the power of the demon and the words found these scrolls, both our goals will be obtained in short order. _I will carry out great vengeance upon them and punish them in my wrath. Then they will know that I am He, when I take vengeance on them._ Ezekiel 25:17."

"Spare me your religious hectic," Renfrew said.

Lazarus chuckled. "Had do you plan on handling Ciel Phantomhive?"

"He will be mine to deal with. You just have your people at the mansion to collect the demon."

And Renfrew vanished.

"Well, not a very _happy soul_, is he?" Strauss remarked.

"I trust not," Lazarus said with some amusement. "For those who commit the ultimate sin, they can never truly rest in death or in any fashion unless their sin is absolved in the eyes of God. And in helping me take revenge against that demon who murdered by son in cold-blood, he believes his sin will be forgiven."

"Does he know you're using him?"

But Lazarus didn't reply. He only gave Strauss a sideways glance with a sinister smirk.

_**To be continued...**_


	9. Revelations

_**CHAPTER 9 - "REVELATIONS"**_

Striding in a field of death - slaughtered bodies of men, women and children, even animals within the thousands - Damascus felt proud that he had vanquished a city of sin, albeit he had killed them all to do it, which in of itself, was a sin. But he was a demon and it was _now_ allowed. He had to laugh at the irony.

It was a small village on the outskirts of Judah, where those of faith in God resided. But faith could not save them. Their sin was to now to heed to the wishes of his master. And his master then gave them all to him. He devoured each one of their souls, and like often at supper time, when he was human, Damascus felt gorged. He could not "eat" another soul. But he knew that feeling would soon pass in a day or so.

His body was slummed with blood and he kicked the dismembered arm of a slaughtered and bloodied man to the side where he was walking, as he made his way to his master in a clean place. His master had observed Damascus's actions and smiled pleased when he arrived. Damascus bowed, even kneed, to his master. It had been ten years since he had become Master Belial's apprentice, but he had not aged.

Master Belial had explained to him that now that he was a demon, he could be whomever or whatever he wished to be, and in the first couple of years of his apprenticeship, Damascus had practiced transforming and tricking people, and then slaughtering them. His humanity awash, he accepted his new life keenly and readily - for without souls to help him grow stronger, and his absolute obedience, he would be deadened and his master would send him back to Pompeii to die in agony and to be buried for millennia without rest.

So fear was a great motivator. But he was not afraid anymore. He enjoyed his new found existence. Had he been corrupted? He didn't think so. God had turned His back on him, killing his city, his parents, and laying utter waste to _his_ world without any forth thought, so why should he accept God's faith if he was a butcher? Master Belial told him the truth, and Morning Star didn't lie either. They had both told him just how sinned the world had become, even with God's grace. And Damascus knew it their words were true.

Damascus had only met Morning Star once. And who he was had been greatly "exaggerated" by his enemies. Master Belial was one of Morning Star's most trusted lieutenant's and had trained many of Hell's soldiers. The list was very long and in due time Damascus would met them all, but for now, he had to train and develop his new found powers - powers of a unique nature. And not only was he assuredly strong, he was exceedingly intelligent and a quick learner. So much so, he had already suppressed all of Master Belial's previous apprentices, who eventually became full-fledged demons, at this stage of development.

"You have surpassed my expectations, my dear child," Belial spoke highly. "I have never educated one such as yourself that has had such tenacity and fortitude and viciousness."

Damascus, his face smeared in crimson, looked up at his master and smiled broadly with bright, white teeth. "I endeavor to grow even stronger, Master, and with your guidance and education, I know I will shine," he said, making subtle reference to Morning Star. Lucifer.

Belial gave a grin. "Morning Star is most pleased with you."

"Thank you, Master Belial."

* * *

The hours until dawn had been fought with uncertainty.

Sebastian still lain unconscious, laying on the floor in Lukas's bedchambers, and today, scheduled, was a business meeting in town to discuss the expansion of Italian toy markets. But that would have to wait. Albeit, he could sent Lukas, for he was becoming a very savvy businessman in his own rite. Lukas acquired multiple contracts for _Funtom Co_. In fact, in the last two to three months alone, he had acquired seven new contracts for _Funtom Co_. Ciel was pleased.

Ciel knew he had never thanked Lukas, nor had he said he was impressed. There was something about Lukas that people liked and made him more enjoyable to be around. Perhaps it was his "good-natured" attitude? Before, Ciel had people come to him, but with Lukas, Lukas volunteered to go to them_,_ which may have resulted in a more favorable gesture. It was to say, "We want your business, so we are willing to come to you to get it."

And that was a good attitude to have, and it levityed a lot of responsibility off of Ciel and Sebastian's shoulders. Now Sebastian could concentrate on his rightful duties as butler _only_.

And yet, there were some people who preferred to deal with Ciel for strictly personal reasons. Unfortunately, today he had one of _those_ meetings with one of _these_ people that he would have to cancel. Once explained that there was a family issue, this person _would_ understand. Sebastian's condition was a relatively minor convenience that Ciel knew would be rectified soon enough once the Undertaker arrived.

Albeit Sebastian's job, Ciel drew his own bath and added a scent of Lavender bath soap. Then he slipped into the warm, relaxing water, and sighed, as its warmth quickly began to ease muscles that he had not even realized were tight. He hated when things did not go right and Sebastian's condition was so. But for a moment, he felt pleased with himself for drawing his own bath without Sebastian. It had not been difficult, and it made him feel proud, and gave him a sense of independence that he had been lacking.

Perhaps some of Lukas's mind-set's of independence was indeed rubbing off him without him realizing it. Much like when a person spends quite a long time in another country, they begin to pick of that country or culture's accent and way of speaking. This happened to a childhood friend before Ciel's parents were murdered. The boy had gone to Ireland for a few months, spending time with distant cousins, and when he returned to England, he had an Irish accent, that _he_ never knew he was speaking with.

Sometimes he wondered if England was going to the dogs - the immigrants that were continuously washing ashore hoping for a better life, poisoning a proud _English-bred _nation. They resided in slums built by their own hands and then begged for money when no _honorable_ Englander will hire them. They should have stayed where they belonged, and died there. England was for the strong.

Queen Victoria was strong. Ever since Prince Albert died, the Queen made few public appearances; longingly in mourning, but she was strong. And Ciel was proud to live in the greatest empire in the world if someone like Her Majesty could continue to live on through adversary. She was also one of the main reasons why _he_ continued to live strong, with his revenge to punish those who murdered his parents, that is.

But he put all that out of his mind and sunk deeper into the bathtub, up to his chin, and sighed deeply, closing his eyes. He was completely alone and had locked the door, so he would be disturbed.

"Greetings Ciel Phantomhive," a disembodied voice echoed the bath room.

Ciel opened his eyes startled and jerked up, water splashing over the side of the tub and onto the floor. Then a blue translucent glow began to fill the room in form into a young boy. By appearances described by Lukas, this had to be Renfrew Phantomhive. But of course, what _other_ ghost haunted his mansion than he?

Ciel's eyes narrowed, he did not even attempt to hide his demonic covenant embedded in his right eye. "Greetings," he said, if only out of courtesy, "Renfrew Phantomhive. Now before we enter into pleasantries, albeit I being without clothes, restore my butler to the _living_, so he may resume his duties."

"So, Lukas told you - "

"Indeed." Ciel settled his arms on the edge of the tube, as if sitting in the chair in his office. "And I demand you reverse it!"

"I will not." Renfrew tilted his head, smiling haughty. "He must learn the errors of his ways."

"And what precisely does that entail?"

"He is reliving his past."

"You mean his history? He is a minion of Lucifer. He has none to live."

"That is where you are mistaken. Sebastian has a very colorful past, indeed."

"Explain."

Renfrew shook his head. "Perhaps when or _if _he awakens, he may reveal it to you. But much like yourself, demons are notorious for keeping secrets, dear cousin. And Heaven-forbid he would _ever_ tell you."

"I warn you ghost, if you damage him in anyway, I know of people who can exorcise you."

Renfrew's eyes narrowed. "Exorcise me? Explain."

Now Ciel had the advantage. "I will keep this secret, ghost. But know this, you are not infallible. Even the dead are susceptible to the whims of the living."

Renfrew frowned. "I know that too well, but _your_ threats are meaningless to me." And with a flick of a hand, the tub turned over onto its left side, dumping Ciel out, awash with its water.

Ciel blinked, his hair drenched and fallen over his face. He looked back at Renfrew, sprawled out on the floor, his nakedness in full view. But he cared not about it.

"Like him, you too, bare the mark of impurity - the Mark of the Beast!" Renfrew's voice elevated. His blue color turning a light purple.

Ciel rose to his feet and faced Renfrew. "He is a demon! He is indeed impure. And my circumstances are different. The covenant I made with Sebastian was prudent to my survival and revenge. The man or men who murdered my parents are still out there, the reason for my parents' demise still unclear. The Inner Circle - a group of sadistic men - summoned a demon, but I made him _my_ servant, and had him slaughter all those who may have had a hand in my parents' deaths, and who now, as I see it, may have also had a hand in my brother's kidnapping and seven year absence from me."

Renfrew laughed. "_Your_ servant? _He_ is using _you_. And your brother knows much more than he is not telling you."

"That is obvious, but it is not yours to judge what he is in deserving to know, and to send asunder those who aid in his memories' recovery, namely Sebastian."

"I do what I please."

"And so do I."

Renfrew gave what could only be contrived as a snort of annoyance. "Has Sebastian revealed to you the true nature of that mark branded into your skin?"

"It is the Mark of the Beast, it needs no further explanation."

"Then you are naïve. It is much more important than you or even _he_ realizes. It is a keyhole to a gateway for _Him_ to enter this world. Thus, I suppose you are the Gate Keeper."

"_Him_? So I hold the keyhole for Lucifer to enter the human world? Where is the key?"

"Not Morning Star - another one - but just as powerful," Renfrew said, answering the previous question. "That mark was pre-destined to be given to you. Your brother is the one who holds the key and has held it for many years. This, indeed, entails a new chapter of your family history, those who wish to do your family harm, separate from the murder of your parents. And it is what I have tried to prevent Sebastian from acquiring, hidden deep inside Lukas's mind because of a vow I took to protect him for saving me from the torment of my old master…"

"Ah, so _something_ is finally made clear. You told Lukas it was 'information' of a sort, not a key."

"I told him this to protect his _thinking_, so he could not _look_ for the pass-phrase to open the sealed door for which I guard. I made a vow to him years ago to protect this key. I suppose this makes him the Key Master, but he has amnesia of it. He holds many secrets inside his mind. Lukas is _very_ special."

"From whom are you keeping this key _secret_ from?"

"I have told you."

"No, this _other_ you speak of. For if I am the 'Gate Keeper' and Lukas is the 'Key Master', for whom does the gateway allow to enter into this world?"

"I will not speak his name and I will say no more on the subject."

"I demand you do, or I will tell Lukas what you have told me."

"I surmise you will do so, notwithstanding."

Ciel tilted his head slightly, smiling smugly, and grabbed a towel from a chair in the room. He wrapped it around his waist. Then it occurred to him. If Renfrew knew this mark on him was pre-destined to be given to him, then Renfrew may know who murdered Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive.

"Bryon Kelvin, do you know him?" Ciel asked.

"I know of him. Why do you ask?"

"Certain associates of his, namely his nephew, and twin men, serial killers, attacked me and my brother, with Sebastian, at this very mansion, months prior. They are dead now, but it is most assuredly speculated that these men were well known by Bryon Kelvin, and may have had a hand in my parents' deaths. Lukas said he and other children ravaged my parents' mansion and set it ablaze under the brainwashed influence of Kelvin, and my elderly butler, Tanaka, confirmed this when he witnessed 'hearing' the sounds of children just before the fire broke."

"What is it you are asking of me?"

"Did Bryon Kelvin murder my parents? Others have said with uncertainty they do not know. As you have been with Lukas since before their deaths, I ask you if you knew of any plot against them and who are the perpetrators? And if you do, I will heed all my resources for your spirit to be set free of this damnation, including those whom I said earlier that _can_ exorcise your spirit."

"Damnation? You have no inkling of _my_ damnation! And I do not take lightly to threats."

"Threats? There is no threat in my words."

"Your words contradict your meaning and your emotions. Your eyes say if I do not help you, you will exorcise me, and if I do help you, you will do the same for what I did to Sebastian. You care for him more than are willing to admit, even to yourself. You admire him like a son does a father."

Ciel scowled. "You misunderstand me, ghost. And do _not_ assume such untruths!"

"I understand enough, and I can see through you, Ciel Phantomhive. I have seen into your mind, as well. The loneliness and the fear. And you can not help me. And I care nothing of you, only for your brother."

"You _will_ tell me what I want to know, you bastard ghost!"

"_I AM NOT A BASTARD!_" Renfrew shouted, and a swirling invisible wind blasted Ciel.

Ciel put up his arms to shed his face, his wet hair whipping in the massive gust of wind that suddenly immersed him from Renfrew's rage. Then his arms were spread asunder and his whole body was levitated into the air like an eagle, the towel around his waist falling to the floor beneath his feet. He was raised to within equal lateral distance between the floor and ceiling of the room, and his limbs were pulled hard in every direction. It felt like that were being pulled out of the sockets.

Ciel clenched his teeth from the pain, eyes closed. "You damn ghost! You will tear me apart!"

"I can do much more than that, and you do not have your demon butler to help you _now_. I fear, too, that you are in need of a little discipline - to learn the errors of your ways. You have been coddled for far too long."

"Do…your…worse…ghost!…I…am…not…afraid!"

"Like I told Sebastian Michealis right before I rendered him unconscious, everyone is afraid of something. And I know for a fact that you fear not being able live up to your parent's name. So that is why you consistently discipline yourself, act proper and pigheaded, so you do not embarrass them. Their greatness. At your age, children are playing carelessly. But you do not afford yourself that luxury, wagering a daily war with yourself and what society begs you to be in light of who your parents were. You and Lukas are the last of the Phantomhive line, and soon, Lukas _will_ be the last. Once I kill you, _He_ - the other - will never be able to return, but _I_ will still be able to get what I want, when _they_ come for Sebastian."

"_They_?"

Renfrew growled angrily, as if Ciel had quickly caught on to something Renfrew had mistakenly revealed.

It was then Ciel dropped, and hit the floor very hard. He cried out in pain as if he felt something snap. Maybe his left arm. And suddenly, blood began to ooze out of the mark on his left side - a lot of blood. He looked at it, and saw the massive amount of blood mixing with the surrounding water on the floor that was coming from the Mark of the Beast, from every orifice of it branding.

"I will drain your blood, so _He_ can not use you. And then Lukas will be useless to him, and be safe."

"_Noooooo!_" Ciel cried out painfully. With every breath he took, he could feel himself quickly weakening. His left forearm was indeed broken between the hand and the elbow and with every moment, a lightning surge of pain encapsulated his body.

"I will leave you to your death, Ciel Phantomhive." And Renfrew quickly vanished.

Ciel's blood awashed the floor in crimson and his body was covered with it, and as he crawled using his right hand to pull himself forward towards the door, he realized that he locked door.

"Lukas!" he cried out. He knew Sebastian was subdued, so he could not count on him. "Lukas, help me!"

But he feared with Lukas all the way down the hall in his quarters aiding Sebastian, that his voice would not be heard - and that his death would be a certainty.

The fear Renfrew spoke of was true. This _now_, he could not deny.

"Mother, father…_I am sorry_," he apologized, and fell unconscious.

* * *

Lukas never thought of himself as a care-giver, especially after his murderous past, but perhaps, in some small way - giving Sebastian this attention, however seemingly useless after what Renfrew Phantomhive did, rendering the demon unconscious with phasmastic powers - it was his way of redeeming himself.

And yes, he saw the irony in it. A murderer, albeit involuntary, but done nonetheless, giving aid to a demon, who sole purpose it to devour souls and to cause chaos in the human world for its own selfish purposes.

But Sebastian had helped him when he truly didn't have to against entities that _this_ demon could have just allowed to succeed - what did it matter to him? Sebastian had made a covenant with Ciel, not him. And yet, Ciel ordered Sebastian to protect Lukas at all costs, and this may have accounted for Sebastian _selflessly_ entering into a temporary covenant at the time with him, in a way to protect him - or perhaps, and it could truly be said, a non-selfless act, to one day devour Lukas's soul as well as Ciel's.

Regardless, it may also have been merely a method to an end to protect Ciel, above all else, from a group of Fallen Reapers who could have eventually killed Ciel Phantomhive later on if their plan to retrieve their original bodies, taken from them from the _Reaperdum_ for unsaid crimes, sending their spirits to wander for all eternality without rest, succeeded. If they had, the Fallen Reapers would have become unstoppable in their plight for revenge against the _Reaperdum_. When they were punished, no one knew that _these_ three Fallen Reapers would find a way to possess human bodies. And the only way this could happen was if the human hosts were already dead, or near dying.

Salem, the Undertaker, had told them everything that occurred during and after _the Great Death_, where Sebastian slaughtered all the members of the Inner Circle, who had summoned him, and how Mathu Kelvin, (nephew of Bryon Kelvin), Savannah (the gypsy woman and fortune-teller) and the twin serial killers, Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt, barely survived the carnage, and were then possessed by the Fallen Reapers at the brick of their deaths, attending this sacrificial ceremony of sorts, and they themselves gunning down those who had not attended, later on, murdering the last five members of the Inner Circle, and simply annihilating their entire secret society for reasons unsaid. For all intended purposes, to hide their secret of resurrection.

There was nothing that escaped the _Reaperdum_, albeit of importance or not. Salem had said to Tanaka, who had called him on the telephone, that he was planning to attend the mansion sometime this evening, when hopefully, he could convince Renfrew to reverse what he did to Sebastian.

Notwithstanding all that, Sebastian was Lukas's main concern _at the moment_.

Mey-Rin was helping him despite his brother's strict instructions for her to continue with her regular duties. But Lukas had recanted Ciel's order and asked the house maid to aid him here. When Ciel heard that his order was recanted, an argument erupted. But Lukas stood his ground, and Ciel stomped off in a huff and went somewhere.

He knew Ciel had a business appointment today, but Lukas had asked Tanaka to cancel it. Once Sebastian was again at his best, the house could once more return with some normality.

"He looks very pale, yes he does, Master Lukas," she said.

He always does,

Lukas thought, _demons don't have much pigmentation in their skin tone._ Instead he said, "Yes, he does, Mey-Rin. We must keep him comfortable and safe." And he was almost about to say, "Mey-Rin, you can drop the dizty-woman act. I know who you really are and what you can do." But he didn't.

And maybe she couldn't, with Sebastian casting a spell on her glasses to make her act this way in public, to disguise her true nature, as an assassin - whom Sebastian had picked up to protect Ciel. A person like Ciel, in his position - the Phantomhive's were also known to have great affiliation with criminal underground facets - needed more than a butler's protection. And the son of Vincent Phantomhive would need it.

Suddenly, he grabbed his head as something delivered a great deal of pain to it, and a voice rang in his ears, that only he could hear: "_Lukas!…Lukas, help me!_"

He snapped his attention to the hallway.

"What is it, my lord?"

Twins were known to have an unconfirmed psychic bond, or that's what he had read in a medical journal that Sebastian had given him to read. Throughout the years of their separation, he had never felt it. But when he was reunited with his brother, he felt this bond grow strong. Yet he had not heard this "voice" like a normal out-spoken one, but one that came from _inside_ his mind, and it had shouted at him loudly.

"Stay here, Mey-Rin…"

And he ran out of his quarters and into the hallway.

He just barely heard her say, "Yes sir," when he started to quickly follow this strange feeling he had. It was a feeling of foreboding and of dread, and it was about his brother. He was close to death! Following it to the bath room. He tried to open the door, but it was locked. Then he heard swishing and the sound of suction at his feet. He lifted on foot and saw he was standing in water. The hardwood floor had masked it.

And there was only one reason that he could think of why there would be water here, the bath had over flowed and someone was in the room. He had not seen Ciel where had stomped off to. Perhaps, without Sebastian, he had attempted to take a bath alone - without knowing Lukas had asked Tanaka to cancel all his business and social appointments today. And something went horribly wrong.

"_Brother!_"

Lukas shouldered the door as hard as he could, throwing it back, slamming it against the back wall. And here he found Ciel, sprawled face first and naked on the tiled floor awash in water and blood. Ciel's body was covered in crimson.

Lukas slipped once on the floor but caught himself as he ran to Ciel, dropping to his knees. Lukas turned Ciel over, put his brother's head on his knees.

"Brother! What happened?" But Ciel was unconscious.

It was then he noticed the blood was coming from the mark branded into the side of Ciel's lift ribcage, given to him by the Inner Circle and it bleeding profusely. He applied pressure to it, but to no avail. His own hands now saturated in Ciel's blood.

"You will not die!" he demanded. "Not after everything that has happened to us! Not yet! I forbid it!"

He knew if Sebastian were here he would not allow it and would use his demonic powers to heal Ciel instantly. But it was strange. The blood was coming from a wound that had been branded and cauterized long ago with intense heat, why was it bleeding _now_ - and with so _much_ blood?

But he would not relent in his pursuit to save his brother and pressed even harder against the mark to make the blood stop!

And then it happened, beneath his hands, something glowed, and he felt a small volt of electricity surge down his arms and through his hands into Ciel's body. His brother jerked, as if zapped. Lukas lifted his hands and looked at them, dumbfounded at what _whatever_ had just happened. Had he just delivered Ciel an electrical shock? He knew that if you rubbed your feet on carpet and touched someone's bare skin, you can give them a small static shock, but there was nothing but water surrounding him, and no electricity.

But the flow of blood _had_ stopped.

And as he looked at the mark, he saw it begin to miraculously reverse the blood's flow and absorb it back, re-entering the wound - all the blood - as if it had a mind or intelligence of its own. And soon every ounce of blood had returned from once he had come.

Ciel gasped for air, jerking forward.

Lukas braced his brother's back, taking hold of his shoulders. "Take it easy, brother. You are okay now." Although, what had happened, not even Lukas could explain its supernatural essence in nature that apparently he had done.

Ciel took in several deep breaths to fill his lungs and Lukas could feel Ciel's heart pounding with intensity through his back as he held his brother upright.

"I found you laying on the floor…"

Ciel cringed, favoring his left arm. "You came," he said, looking back with a hint of smile. "You heard my call."

"No, brother. I can't fully explain it, but I _felt_ you dying and the feeling lead me here. What happened? What or who did this to you?"

"That damn ghost!" he cursed. "That bastard of a ghost!"

**To be continued…**


	10. Secrets Revealed

_**CHAPTER 10 - "SECRETS REVEALED"**_

Bardroy was a cook, but he had also once been a soldier. And he knew a little about triage medicine as well being in the field for a good many years. With Tanaka at his side, he was able to set Ciel's arm, then wrap it in a bandage with a sling.

It must have hurt like hell and Lukas could see how much pain his brother was in, but he endeared it, which was also due to down right stubbornness. He should have gone to see a doctor. But he had to admit, what could a doctor do other than what Bardroy and Tanaka had done?

Ciel appeared to be as calm as he could be, sitting in a chair in the Sitting Room, now fully dressed, but in a loose fitting shirt, sipping some tea. They were alone.

"Why would Renfrew do this to you?"

Ciel took the cup from his mouth. "You tell me," saying, eyeing Lukas with skepticism. "First he renders Sebastian inert, then he tries to murder me. But he does not want harm coming to you."

"His vow to protect me, no doubt," Lukas said with some regret.

"Notwithstanding, I want this ghost exorcised from the mansion and I'll call some people I know to do it, if this situation can not be resolved internally."

"Let me talk with him, reason with him. He would not have gone after you unless you pushed him."

"It is my fault now? He is your 'friend'. Deal with him quickly or _I_ will deal with it _swiftly_."

Lukas didn't need for Ciel to say whom he knew, those who could "exorcise" Renfrew's spirit from the mansion. They were called "The Ghost Club" and they specialized and have been successful in exorcising ghosts and other "playful" spirits from residences and commercial buildings. All it took was an understanding of the ghost's reason for being there, religious equipment, a crucifix, goats or lambs blood, and a few strongly-worded chosen _Godly_ words. It was even said Charles Dickens, the writer of _the Christmas Carol_ was a member, which could have accounted for him writing his Christmas story.

"You have attempted to summon him in the last several minutes to explain his actions, but he refuses to heed to your call," Ciel further said. "I want answers and want them _now_."

"Perhaps he does not like being called like some dog."

"And what does that suppose to mean?"

"My referral means, brother, is that you treat people like second-class citizens if they don't measure up to your standards of excellence or elegance - or to mother and father's."

"How dare you!"

"The truth hurts. But listen, and listen well, because I have more to say. You treat Elizabeth, your own fiancée, like garbage. It was obvious she went to a lot of pain-stacking effort to decorate the mansion and to bring in those fiddlers. But you just snuffed it off and her away like it meant nothing, and all because of what happened to you at this time of year more than two years prior."

Ciel sneered. "How dare you say that! How dare you!" he yelled.

"I dare say it because it is true."

"If you were not my brother I would - "

"You would kill me." Lukas nodded. "We've been through this before, Ciel. And you lost the duel."

Ciel took a sip of his tea, but Lukas could see the scowl from his brother behind the cup. But the tea appeared to calm him down at the moment. "Yes," he said, taking a deep breath. "How could I forget. And you still have not revealed the nature of your combative skills to me or Sebastian."

"When I remember how, I will do so. Like the brewing of tea, memory comes slowly. And I have a lot to still recall, for which why I entrusted Sebastian to aid me with on a nightly bases. I was beginning to remember some things I had forgotten, and then Renfrew appeared." Lukas put a closed hand to his chin in thought. "But I do recall a very specialized man who trained me with weaponry and armaments."

"Then we have a starting point and we will build on that."

"What starting point?" Lukas waved his hand in a gesture of disregard. "We are treading off topic. Let us have a 'session' to summon Renfrew - something he can not ignore. And then we can ask him questions."

"Tell me how to trap him."

"No."

Ciel seemed to growl under his breath like a disgruntled dog and Lukas suppressed a smile. "Your ghost was indeed correct when he said you were special. You are insufferable in your convictions, like no one I have ever known. Tell me how you saved me? And were did all the blood go?"

"I don't know." Lukas shook his head dumbfounded. "And your blood went back into your body by some method I am trulyclueless about in a mystery I honestly wish to unravel."

* * *

When the Undertaker arrived by horse and carriage that evening dressed in his usual dark attire and top hat, he, Ciel and Lukas sat around a table draped with a dark table cloth. Salem had also brought something else with him, made aware by other avenues of information - he was a Reaper, after all. Nothing of a spiritual sense gets past the _Reaperdum_. And Renfrew Phantomhive had become a hot topic in the _Reaperdum_.

In certain circles, the item the Undertaker brought with him was loosely called a Ouija Board. Some believed it was a conduit to speak with them dead with letters and numbers and different phrases for the spirit to communicate with the living. But Lukas thought it was a bit redundant as Renfrew had already appeared to he and Ciel without the need of such a thing.

But it was all apart of the session. And it was something Renfrew - a spirit - could not ignore. The spirit realm had its own rules and if called upon with the proper methods and words, no spirit can refuse. The room they were in, the Drawing Room, was also darkened with candlelight illumination. Dancing shadows, humorously like demons, filled the room. But to Salem, it was all for dramatic effect.

"This is all nonsense," Ciel said, but he still sat at the table. "You are a Reaper. Why can you not merely snap your fingers and summon him?"

Salem smiled a toothy grin, but it was Lukas who said, "He knows what he's doing, Ciel. We would not be here and he would not have brought this Ouija Board if it this was not important."

Salem lifted his hands in an upward gesture. "Well, my lord. Your brother is essentially correct. But I do so much enjoy the theatrics of it all. I am a Reaper, and for us, it is easy to temper the dead to our summons."

"Just get on with it," Ciel demanded, and produced a smug grin. Lukas frowned, outsmarted.

Salem snapped his fingers.

And Renfrew suddenly appeared, but with a displeased look on his face. He looked at the Undertaker. "You said you would never do that again. You know how I hate it."

Salem chuckled. "I was undone by two-to-one."

Renfrew looked at Lukas and Ciel consecutively, but he did seem surprised to find Ciel still alive, and took a longer moment staring into Ciel's hardened, hateful gaze upon him, eventually looking away.

"You and Renfrew are acquainted?" Lukas asked.

"Implicitly," Renfrew grumbled. "Even regretfully." His face had gone sour, as if he knew that a terrible secret was about to be revealed.

"You could say we are _old_ acquaintances in fact," Salem said with a chuckle. The slightest thing seemed to amuse him. "Renfrew is a poltergeist, a trickster spirit."

Both boys looked at Renfrew in bewilderment. "Do you mean you are not our cousin?" asked Lukas.

"He is indeed your distant cousin, but he has learned a few tricks over the years," Salem said. "Boredom does that to a spirit in time. He knows he can never rest, so he likes to 'play with others' for amusement to pass the time."

"Never rest?" Lukas said.

"Explain!" Ciel demanded.

"My history is true and I was trapped by the individual whom you, Lukas, released me from. This Ouija Board that Salem had brought is no doubt a reminder to _me_ of this and my deception to you about it." Salem grinned. "I could have escaped from him with enough effort at any time. I remained with this man for amusement. He had called upon a spirit, playing with his board one night that bought in some shop, and I came. But I underestimated his uncanny ability with the supernatural and he used a spell to hold me. It was a weak spell, and I could have broken it at any time - he forgot the _anchor spell _of it, the end part that finishes it, or he spoke it incorrectly. Nevertheless, I remained with him until you came along, Lukas. And told you I was trapped, to 'free' myself from him because I was getting bored of him. But his death was the only way to truly grant my freedom."

Lukas frowned hard. "So you lied to me."

"Only about that. But you did put him into 'hibernation' at the bottom of the Thames River during one cold winter night when he attacked you. I suspect by now his body has been devoured by fish."

"How did our association come about? And why are you guardian to this 'door' inside my mind _now_? If I didn't save you, why have you sworn a vow to protect me? And why did you try to kill my brother?"

"This vow stands true, but for a different reason." Renfrew gave Salem a sideways glance, for which Salem met, and that Lukas saw. It was as if Renfrew was asking permission for something. Salem nodded. Renfrew turned back to Lukas. "During your time away from your brother, not only were you under the influence of Bryon Kelvin, but at one point you were endowed with Reaper powers that were then taken back, whereas during this time you acquired _something_…for which I vowed to protect. However, it was suspected that some residue of this Reaper still remains. And this is how you were able to save your brother in the bathroom, returning the blood back into his body. It was a test, to see if your still had this power."

"A test?" Ciel was furious.

"Calm down, my lord," Salem said. "I was monitoring the entire affair. I would not have allowed you to die, if indeed, young Lukas could not save you. It was approved by the Reaperdum."

But Salem's words still didn't bring comfort to Ciel. The look in his left eye, the eye patch over his right, widened with absolute bloodlust.

Ciel then snorted, letting out a deep breath. Lukas wagered Ciel had finally realized what _could_ he do to this pair of spiritual-powered beings? Ciel was only human.

"So you played with my life," Ciel said calmly, "and broke my arm."

Renfrew waved a hand over Ciel's broken arm and it was instantly healed.

Ciel moved his arm about out of the sling and purposely swung it through Renfrew distorting his spirit for a moment. It may have been his way of testing the solidity of Renfrew, to 'play' to a notion that, if he could, Ciel would inflict some physical violence upon Renfrew for what the spirit did to him.

"So, now that that is cleared up. Explain to me more about myself being the Gate Keeper because of the brand on my body and Lukas being the Key Master because of this secret he holds in his mind," Ciel urged. "But, before that, explain to us why you can never rest."

Renfrew temporarily shyed away. "I can never rest because of a sin I committed in life which has condemned me in death. In the eyes of God it is an unforgivable sin."

"Ah," Ciel breathed out, appearing to understand. "So you committed suicide." Saying it as if it meant nothing. "You threw away the gift _God_ bestowed upon you. Indeed, quite unforgivable."

"The details of my departure from this world, I will not say. They are mine to bare."

"You were fighting with your father and threatened to shoot yourself with his gun, Renfrew," Salem said it for him. "You accidentally pulled the trigger believing that it was not loaded and killed yourself. In _His_ eyes, you committed the sin, and can never rest for it."

Renfrew grumbled, taking a moment to compose the embarrassment he felt. "Notwithstanding, I have entered into a pack with a group of individuals who may have the ability to help me erase my sin and restore me back into the good graces of the Almighty. This is why I rendered Sebastian unconscious for them to collect at a time of their choosing, for they will need his powers for their plans to come to fruition."

Again, both boys looked bewildered. "Of whom do you speak of?" Lukas asked.

"It is all because of a secret group called the Illuminati," Renfrew revealed.

Ciel huffed. "Another secret society like the Inner Circle?"

"No, even larger. They encompass the entire globe, the known world. They have allies everywhere."

Renfrew, with Salem's assistance, went into _some_ detail about the _Illuminati's _beginnings, up to now, as far as they both knew - aside from further secrets - and who was the leader of the English branch of the _Illuminati_, a man known as Wilhelm Lycan Lazarus III, who also had a secret agenda: to take revenge upon Sebastian for murdering his son, Johnny Lazarus, during what is commonly referred to as _the Great Death_. It was the day Sebastian slaughtered all the 'attending' members of the Inner Circle in their secret gathering place, and everyone else, including the children meant to be sacrificed, in attendance, except for Ciel Phantomhive…

"You two were meant to be sacrifices in your own rite," Renfrew then said. "The Illuminati have sought to summon a great and powerful demon, and with the precise enchantments, even _He_ can be controlled. But they needed two individuals to be the Gate Keeper and the Key Master. You two were chosen."

"I am confused," Lukas said. "If the two 'societies' did not know of the other's existence, how were we - "

"The Illuminati have spies everywhere, and indeed, despite some may not have known, others did, and those who branded Ciel Phantomhave may have been influenced by certain _Illuminati_ members implanted within the Inner Circle without them knowing it, to make Ciel the Gate Keeper, and you, Lukas, the Key Master." Renfrew then turned to Ciel. "On another note, Lukas's body - when your parents were told of his death at the hands of a corrupted surgeon working for Bryon Kelvin - was replaced by another boy his size, and his face ravaged by surgical implements to be unrecognizable. He is the boy whom Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive buried in the marked grave in the family plot. In essence, Bryon Kelvin, whom I told you, Ciel, I did not know, was the go-between for both secret sects. He is a very evil man and has dark heart."

"It all falls back to Bryon Kelvin," Ciel said, and slammed the table with his fists. He hit it so hard that the table shook violently and Ouija Board jumped. "All our family grief is because of him!"

"Well, not all of it, my lord," Salem said, pointing a long nailed finger at Ciel's Hope Diamond ring, and chuckled. "You have a distant relative to blame for some of it. And that can not be undone."

Ciel looked at his ring, but seemed unconcerned with it at the moment. "I want Bryon Kelvin _dead_!"

"As do I, brother," Lukas concurred. "But we have to find him first. I've asked our contacts around the city to alert us if they spot him."

"And something else you must know." Renfrew returned to the topic at hand. "Lazarus is in possession of certain religious scrolls that he says reveal the true resurrection behind Jesus Christ emerging from the cave…"

"True secret?" Ciel said. "The bible tells that Jesus Christ emerged after three days, resurrected by God."

"Lazarus believes otherwise. I have not read what are on these scrolls, however. But with this secret, he plans on resurrecting his son whom he had had mummified."

"Then we must get our hands on these scrolls," Ciel said determinately, "and read what's on them."

Lukas smiled at his brother. "Are you thinking what I am, brother?"

"Indeed, Lukas. Indeed, I am." And a broad excited smile encapsulated Ciel's face. "If Lazarus does indeed have something that may restore life, albeit my skepticism, then our parents may live again."

_**To be continued…**_


	11. To The Rescue

_**CHAPTER 11 - "TO THE RESCUE"**_

The evening before, Frederick Abberline had listened to everything Spencer Von Strauss had told him about the secret group calling themselves the _Illuminati_ and what they could do to him if Abberline didn't cease in his secret investigations into the sudden re-appearance of Lukas Phantomhive and other things.

After the young man had left his home, Abberline sat in the same chair he had been sitting in when he was listening to Spencer Von Strauss and contemplated his words and thought about whether it _would be _in his best interest to step away from his secret investigations and to just let sleeping dogs lie.

He thought long and hard and came to a decision. No.

Justice needed to be served and with the information he had already gathered, and if it was making the members or certain members of the _Illuminati_ nervous, to send out an 'investigator' in the form of Thann Von Strauss, Spencer's older brother, to spy on him, then he was indeed on the right track of things. And he was getting very close to something that the _Illuminati_ wanted to keep hidden.

But was it worth risking his life and that of his fiancée Marie?

Now, an evening later, he sat in his study at home behind a desk and read over some of the information he had gathered in an attempt to trigger some insightfulness.

However, he did leave an important photograph accidentally on his desk at the Scotland Yard office under some papers - hopefully, it had not been found, but he feared it had - of Mathu Kelvin, a young gypsy woman, and the notorious twin serial killers Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt.

Abberline had a mysterious informant who passed along to him a lot of information on the criminal underworld, and for free. All the man said was he was doing this to stop the innocent from being hurt. He had never seen the man's face and always met him in back alleyways and in secluded, darkened areas. The man had come to him one day, stopped him on Abberline's way home months back, and gave him the first of many pieces of information - that eventually, however inadvertently, lead him to investigating the re-emergence of Lukas Phantomhive. Although, Abberline suspected the information given to him was initially for an entirely different case involving people in the criminal underground, like Mathu Kelvin, who was suspected of owning and running dozens of gambling dens.

The photograph of them was given to Abberline by his informant.

The strange thing was all of them had vanished without a trace and neither one of them had been seen in months. Something sinister was going on that concerned all parties he was investigating and he intended to get to the bottom of it.

But what did the _Illuminati_ and the child kidnapper of London, the nephew of a recluse philanthropist, a gypsy woman, and twin serial killers, all have in common? How were they all connected? Albeit all criminally inclined?

If only Lukas Phantomhive would come forward and tell police about his years in captivity and who this "Father" was, that he was told to refer to him as through his seven year tenure with the man, then truly, a lot would be revealed. But Abberline didn't believe likely the young boy would. The boy wanted his revenge on this man for stealing him from his family and making him do horribly things.

"You're too predictable, Abberline," a gruff sounding voice said. "Walking the same route home every day, even to the corner store to pick up bread and milk."

Abberline looked about the study, but he could not see anyone in the room with him. And whoever this "person" was, had known where he had been today. The Police Commission - Sir Randall, his boss - had told him to take a few days off to enjoy the holidays. And he did.

"Down here," the disembodied voice said again.

Abberline stood and looked over the edge of his desk and standing there was the smallest man he had ever seen - not even reaching the top of his desk - but looked fully grown.

He had a rough look to him. His face was wrinkled perhaps after years of living a hard life with pock-marks and close-cropped facial hair to probably hide the rest. He was also bald, and he wore dark clothes befitting his statue and character: an assassin or killer - his apparent chosen profession.

A gun was pointing directly in Abberline's face.

"A leprechaun?"

"I am not a leprechaun!" the small man said, obviously taking offence at the reference of a little man who offered gold to wandering strangers at the end of a rainbow in Irish fairytales.

Abberline had only seen people of this statue in the circus as performers. It was surprising to see a man like this pointing a gun at him.

"For a lawman, you should have many ways home. You never know whom may be following you."

"Honestly, I never saw you."

"Is that another crack at my height?"

"No, I'm feeling short on jokes right now."

The small man's eyes narrowed with an expression of comedic disbelief. "Not very smart for a marked man to be making jokes with a gun pointed at him."

"Marked man?"

"And a dead man."

* * *

Spencer Von Strauss shouted at the driver of the "taxi" horse and carriage to hurry. The driver in the seat in the outside, upper part of the forward carriage snapped the horses' reigns and shouted, "_Haaaaa!_"

The carriage raced through the dimly-lit, darkened streets of London, the horses and wheels of the carriage running rucksaw on the cobblestones. But even so, Spencer still felt it was not fast enough.

"Faster!" he demanded. "And don't spare the horses!"

* * *

With his hands up in the air - Abberline was at least three times taller than the small man assassin when doing this - and he was ordered by the man to come out front of behind his desk. Abberline had no doubt this man was here to kill him and sent by the _Illuminati_ for Abberline's secret investigation. Perhaps Abberline had got too close to something with his investigation and they wanted him finally silenced.

"Who sent you?" Abberline wanted the man to say it. "And how did you get in my house?"

"My employer wishes to remain anonymous."

"The Illuminati," Abberline flatly said, no longer playing games.

This appeared to take the assassin by surprise. "Where did you hear - no matter. They hired me to rid them of a problem. That's what I do and I am successful at it. And their problem is you."

"Perhaps we can strike an accord? You look like a smart man."

"Smarter than most. And you don't want to cross these people. You either do the job they hire you for or the next day you find yourself in a pine box or in the Thames River - and I don't plan on either."

"Tell me something," Abberline said, to keep the conversion going and to think of a way to outwit this man. "Are these people as powerful and far-reaching as I've heard?"

The small man narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Who have you been talking to? And just maybe I'll kill you quickly…"

"So you can sell this information to the Illuminati? And how would Wilhelm Lazarus feel about you asking for more money?"

The small man frowned hard. "Damn it. Now you've done it! You just said the one thing that countered my killing you. Now you'll hafta come with me and tell my employer who you've been talking to."

The small man's gun rose to equal his words, then he waved it towards the door. Abberline wished he hadn't dropped the name, now he was in trouble.

"Lazarus isn't your employer?"

"No, he isn't. But my employer is known to associate with him." He waved his gun again. "My friend is outside. We'll take you to see my employer. Then you can spill your guts before your guts are spilled."

* * *

Spencer Von Strauss literally jumped out of the carriage when it stopped - skidded to a halt in front of Abberline's two-story town home in mid-London.

Spencer had hired the taxi carriage on the other side of town and demanded it hurry here when he was informed of the news by a spy he had within certain circles that the _Illuminati_ had sent an assassin to kill Abberline for the secret investigation was conducting…but mostly for the photograph his older brother had managed to obtain when he visited Scotland Yard and the police commissioner.

He had also told his informant to have a certain friend of his to meet him at the Abberline home.

It had been drizzling and raining off and on and the ground was wet, and Spencer slipped once on the sidewalk, but quickly caught himself as he ran to the front door.

"Hey fello!" the driver shouted. "You have to pay. This ride aint for free, you know."

"The money's in the cabin," Spencer said back.

The thirty or so aged driver cursed at him in Gaelic, being an Irishman, not knowing who Spencer was and having to get down off his perch to get his payment for the _fast_ ride here. But Spencer didn't care and after the man learned of the very large tip left for him, he doubted the man would mind either.

Spencer burst through the door, shouldering it, nearly throwing it off its hinges, then shouted, "_Abberline!_"

"_In here!_" came the inspector's voice.

Spencer followed it and came to the open door to the study and was shock to find -

"Shortstack?" he said.

"Spencer Von Strauss?" the small man said. "And I hate that nickname! What the hell are you doing here?"

Spencer saw Shortstack pointing a gun on Abberline and quickly composed himself, rendering his breathing normal. But he still felt his heart pounding. "I'm here to deliver a message." He reached behind him and pulled out a gun he had tucked in the back of his trousers, pointing it at the small man. "Let him go, Shortstack. I'm here take responsibility for him."

"But I have contract with your father - "

"My father hired you to kill Abberline?"

"Yes, after information your brother found Abberline was investigating. That's all I know."

"Your contract is hereby cancelled," Spencer said tautly. "No one will die here tonight."

Shortstack growled. "When your father hears about this, and I'll tell him you stopped me, heads will roll. I want to get paid."

Spencer had a satchel with him, hung with a strap on his right hip, and he reached into it and pulled out a handful of gold coins, tossing them on the floor in front of Shortstack. "Payment rendered. Now get out!"

"This aint how it's done. I make the kill - "

"I'm saying your contract is hereby cancelled, by _my_ authority. Do you understand?" Spencer's voice was elevated higher than normal. He knew Shortstack would sell his own grandmother if she paid enough, or kill her, if he got more. "I will not tolerate insubordination. If you obey my father, then you also obey me."

Shortstack growled angrily. "This is only half the promised amount," he said, holding up the coins once retrieved. "Where's the rest?"

"That's all I have, take it or leave it. Your choice." Spencer knew Shortstack would tell his father about this; the small man put away his gun.

"You're treading in treacherous waters, young Strauss," Shortstack said. "Word will get out to the others and then _you_ will be a marked man and labeled a criminal."

"A criminal in who's eyes? Theirs? The Illuminati are the fiends here. They murdered my sister!"

"I know nothing about that. I was only hired to do a job. He knows too much."

"And so do you." And Spencer killed the man. The bullet penetrating mid-centre into the forehead of Shortstack. He had never killed anyone before, but he didn't regret it. He sacrificed an evil man for a good man, and in his mind it was worth the trade.

Abberline stood shocked. "You killed him. He could have given me information."

Spencer still held his gun at the ready with both hands on Shortstack, now dead. His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest.

Abberline approached him and used a hand to lower the gun down, the barrel to the floor. "Easy kid," he said, trying to calm the lad down. The excitement was making Spencer sweat, his black hair matted to his head.

Spencer then straightened, lowing the gun to his side. "The Illuminati are dangerous, I've told you this. But I never expected them to send an assassin so soon. If Shortstack had taken you back to my father, or indeed, Wilhelm Lazarus, the head of the Illuminati English branch, either one would have put the pieces together and I fear even now they may have and figured out that I am you informant."

Abberline's eyes widened. "_You_ are my shadowy informant?"

Spencer nodded. "I gave you information on criminal activity, that you then rendered into a completely different investigation than I intended. I never expected this. I wanted to expose the Illuminati to the public, but let you do the groundwork, to expose Mathu Kelvin's connections to the criminal underworld. But then you brought Lukas Phantomhive into the picture.

"The picture I gave you of Mathu Kelvin and the others months ago was for you follow _them_ and _their_ criminal underground activities, which would then eventually lead you to the Illuminati. But even I am dumbfounded why my father finds your investigation, albeit mediocre, dangerous enough to send someone to kill you. I should not have involved you. I am sorry for this. Now they'll never stop."

"I don't have anything to expose the Illuminati with. I never even heard of them before you told me."

"This was my error. And my having you involved may have triggered a further string of events to cause you to become a marked man by these people. Where is your fiancée? I didn't see her on the way in."

"Marie is spending the evening at her sister's, it's the holidays. But I said I had some work to do, so I stayed here."

Spencer nodded approval. "Let's hope she decides to stay over night, but even if you did go with her, they may have followed you there…"

Abberline stepped over Shortstack. "He said he had a friend waiting outside."

"I didn't see anyone when I arrived, but I was more concerned with getting to you after one of my spies told me the Illuminati had targeted you for assassination. Notwithstanding, we have to go."

Suddenly a second person came into the study holding a gun, he was a little older than Spencer, with a taut face and a thin, reedy body, and wore dark clothes and a trench coat.

Spencer smiled. "Abberline, meet a very close and trustworthy friend of mine: Trent Banes. Did you bring it?" Trent nodded. "Good. Abberline, Trent will be taking you to a safe house that only a select _trusted_ few know about. You'll be safe and you can call your wife from there to stay with her sister longer. I'll clean up here."

"I can call a few others to help - "

Spencer waved off Trent. "No, the less know about this the better. If the Illuminati get whim of him surviving this assassination - and they will soon - I'll have some serious explaining to do. And why I killed my father's assassin."

"He's not a forgiving man, you father," Trent said.

"I agree, but if he was truly serious about this, he would have sent my brother. Thann must have been busy."

Spencer and Trent lead Abberline outside after the inspector had collected a few things, and on the street waiting for them was a two-seated, low riding, soapbox racer of a sort, with an long, smooth aluminum shell and four thick wheels. In the back was a large engine with its steam jettison tube sticking out.

Abberline started to say something, but Spencer spoke up. "We don't have a name for it yet. My friends and I began building it a year ago with the help of a scientist we know. This is prototype and may one day be the common invention for more powerful vehicles like it in the future. Right now, it's a just a toy."

"Just a toy? This is pure genius!" Abberline was still young enough to be excited over a "toy".

"Trent, explain it to him later. Abberline, get in the front compartment."

Abberline did, and Trent handed him a pair of goggles. Trent then got in the back compartment, put on a pair, and did something with his hands out of sight underneath. The jettison tube fired off a blast of fire, and before Abberline could ask what the sound was, Trent pulled hard on a yoke in his compartment and the vehicle sped off down the street, leaving Spencer by himself.

Spencer waved some of the smoke away. He would have to see into building the internal engine with just electrical power instead of a hybrid of electricity and steam to eliminate the heat condenser of the jettison tube. He and his friends enjoyed building things and after visiting several Expositions on modern machines and machines of the future around the world, his vehicle was an inspiration. And when he finalized his vehicle, he would market it to people all around the world. He had an acquaintance who was already interested in the rights - a bright, intelligent, young man named Henry Ford, in America, whom Spencer had been invited to his marriage in April, to his long time sweetheart, Ms. Clara Ala Bryant.

But indeed the soapbox "roadster" of a sort was only a toy and something more practical would need to be designed to be sold and marketed to the public.

Spencer went back into Abberline's home, but when he went back into the study, someone was standing over Shortstack's body with a gun. He had it aimed on Spencer. This man was much taller, taller than Spencer, and much more menacing looking than Shortstack. He was dressed all in dark brown clothes with long dark hair, and a deep massive scar across his right, blind eye. And he had a small monkey on his left shoulder. Another assassin?

Spencer didn't know him. But how did this man slip pass him? Unless he was already in the house hiding.

"_His_ friend, I would presume?" Spencer said.

"You could say that. By the by, your brother says hello."

Someone new came out from another room, and Spencer only caught a brief glimpse of him before he was hit over the back of the head with a very large object and fell to the floor.

**To be continued...**


	12. A New Rival For Damascus

_**CHAPTER 12 - "A NEW RIVAL FOR DAMASCUS" **_

The weather was cold in this barren desert plateau, but for two demons even cold didn't affect them - their "internal body heat" warming them. Regardless of this fact, they both wore thick cloaks and clothes their minds invented and manifested in preparation for the winter winds in this part of the world.

This was a seemingly unknown part of the world in what would latter be known as North America, just on the cusp of the bridge that lead to its sister continent to the south.

Damascus, now of the chronological age of seventeen, had allowed himself to grow from the boy he had been. He was tried of being a child. He had been given demonic powers and developed them as a twelve year old boy, but he wanted something more. With his new skills and powers, he wanted to "grow-up", and advanced his age to that equivalent of how he felt.

His master repeatedly chided him for being reckless, like that of a human in his later teenage years. So Damascus advanced his appearance to give himself a look suited to his recklessness. This, however, was not what his master wanted from him. Belial wanted him to grow mentally, but Damascus was having too much fun with his powers to give into responsibility just yet.

Surrounding them were rock dwellings of an advance civilization that carved their homes into bedrock and into volcano tuff. This was beyond anything that Damascus could have conceived humanity in this primitive part of the world could achieve with stone hammers and rock chisels. But it had been achieved and with wonderful, artistic results. It looked much like a palace in this state.

And there were many other similar dwellings in and around these cavernous, isolated indigenous surroundings, all exhibiting advanced prowess in construction and ingenuity. And they visited every one, taking in the sights. But there was one thing missing: people. Each "community" was abandoned for some unknown reason, their jugs, pots and dwellings, untouched by further inhabitation. Few skeletons were found, but most had been lain to rest ages ago, preserved only by the lack of moisture in the area.

However, it was cold here now. This area of the world was known to be close to a warm area of the planet - a planet so many species resided on, but were ignorant to the circumference of it, its largeness and its countless landmasses and civilizations unknown to others, separated by large bodies of water. This area of the planet was in a cold spell of sorts but without falling snow.

This is where a people called the "_Anaasází" _once lived. It was native for "_Ancient Foreigners_", whom they learned from a wanderer in the area - a wanderer whom Damascus devoured his soul and obtained his memories of these people, a new trick he learned. Instead of just "eating" souls, he could now absorb their minds, their memories and their experiences, thus increasing his intelligence of the world's people.

And how ironic that they were now the "ancient foreigners" to this part of the world, approximately 1,200 years from when Damascus's journey into _Demonhood_ had begun. In those years, he had witness countless civilizations and cultures vanish into dust from the height of their power, traveling all around the world. He saw the bitterness and the hate of humanity, especially that of Christians, religious heretics in their rite, "cleansing" the world of every other "god" but their own, using violence and massive uprisings against all those who refused to see the light of God, and everything was done in _His_ name, and _He_ accepted it.

But unbeknownst to each follower that killed in God's name, maimed or committed violence against their fellow man, they all went to Hell for their sins. So in the fight against Heaven, Lucifer was indeed winning the war…

"Why are we here, Master? This area is abandoned of life. There's no one to eat."

"Another lesson and an important one, seeing how you cling to your reckless ways of late," Belial stated.

"I am enjoying my new existence, Master, nothing more." Damascus gave his Master a mischievous grin. But Belial did not appreciate the playfulness of the response. Damascus stopped. "Forgive me, Master."

They were in the centre of the cavern that housed the palace of stone and Belial gestured to one aspect of it. "The lesson for today and henceforth, my apprentice, is very different from attacking your prey and devouring their souls. This you have mastered. And I am pleased. But now we enter a new phrase of your development. You learn quickly, but I was given instructions to not present this new lesson until now."

"What can I learn here? It is lifeless."

Belial smiled thinly. "No, my apprentice. In truth, it is teeming with life. This is how a demon obtains his nourishment when life seemingly doesn't exist and there will be times when this lesson will benefit you. Your lesson is to seek out life, forge for it. Reach deep into the bowels of this place and pluck it out."

Damascus gave Belial a disbelieving glance. "Do you mean animal life?"

Belial smiled, as if finding Damascus confusion amusing. "No, I mean _other_ life. What is one of the most important lessons of existence?"

Damascus thought for a moment. "Life is eternal," he said with confidence.

"Precisely. Even when a body is stripped of its spirit, the soul of the individual remains lucent for many years, its energy used to fuel all those around it before it ascends to a higher plain of existence."

"Do you mean the spirits of these people are still here?"

"Of a fashion. These people may have abandoned this place some time ago, but the "memory" of their existence here is embedded in every orifice of these grounds. The world forever remembers when we forget. Every ounce of life is recorded, not only in the 'Book of Life', but also in the world they once inhabited - and I am not speaking of their crafts and carvings.

"Humans can't see it, but Angels and Demons can, if properly trained, the spiritual essence of life that surrounds them day to day. Humans only see the surface of life, but there is much, much more to life that exists beyond their primitive comprehensive. We are proof of this. If I did not rescue you, all what you believed the world was, was all you would take into death.

"I want you draw out the life that resides here, recall the energy that fills these grounds and take it as nourishment. There isn't much, for all energy fades and is reconstituted into something else in time - the energy of life never dies - but this is not the point. It is the skill of it that is important."

A snort of laughter filled the area and both turned to see a young man sitting on a large boulder, dressed all in black, thin, with thick black hair, with one leg crooked up to his chest and the other dropping down. He took a moment to scratch an inch on his left cheek. He had a mischievous smile on his tight face.

"Teaching another one, uh, _Master_?" the way the man spoke the word Master was sardonic. "He is a smart one, but he won't get far. I was your best student and you threw me away like trash."

"You were reckless and disobedient, Decco," Belial chided him. "I offered you many chances to repent."

Decco laughed heartily. The area filled with it. "Repent is such a dirty little word. So, you're teaching him how to recall energy from the grounds humanity once inhibited? Such a monotonous lesson."

"May I remind you, it took you more than once to achieve its mastery."

Decco merely tilted his head. "I tired of the tediousness of it. You drummed it into me so many times that I played with you. I picked it the very first time."

"That is a lie. I was with you when you made your first of _many_ attempts."

"I was playing with you, old man."

Damascus snapped his fingers and suddenly the boulder exploded from an invisible pressure and Decco fell down behind it, not expecting it. He emerged from the rubble, holding the right side of his head. Damascus smiled sharply, not saying a word, but it was obvious Decco knew he had done it.

Decco scowled at him. "How dare you do that, you urchin," he said with distain. "I've been following your progress over the centuries and you're not in my league. But if you wish to fight with me, I'll destroy you!"

"Enough!" Belial demanded. "Decco, be on your way. I must continue with Damascus's lessons."

"I wouldn't bother, old man. I've already sucked the life out of this place. What little life remains, I _le_t remain. I knew you would be coming here, Morning Star told me. He and I have become quite acquainted over the years. He enjoys my company, I make him laugh. Centuries before, you took me to a similar place like this in a mountainous region for this lesson, some place where the humans have weird, slanted eyes and speak a detestable language, using odd characters to write down their history."

"They have a rich and endearing history, do not scoff them so easily."

Decco approached, and came close enough to spit on Damascus. "I dislike you already, _boy_."

"The sentiment is shared, _old man_."

Decco sneered with teeth showing, then he thrust his hands forward using an unforeseen energy push to toss Damascus a hundred meters away into one of the stone dwellings, bringing part of it down on top of him.

Damascus cringed in pain and momentarily panicked when he found himself surrounded by rock and stone and unable to move, much like the city of Pompeii was, buried under tons of volcano ash. This was his greatest fear, to be trapped in an eternal tomb. But then he steadied his breathing, he knew he could get out.

He used his powers to throw the debris off him, creating an opening for him to crawl out. He breathed heavily, but it was merely a remnant from his human life, a reaction to the panic he felt. He was afraid of enclosed spaces.

"I am indeed many years older than you, but I am much more powerful, kid. I take this young face and body because it is how I feel. So respect me."

Belial swept Decco off his feet, and the young demon hit the ground hard, landing on his back. Then he plunked the imp up by the neck, raising him high above the ground. Decco reached for Belial's arm to release him, but to no avail. "And you will respect me, youngling. For you are _not_ infallible. Morning Star will hear about this, mark my words." Belial threw him down. Decco landed hard.

Damascus came to stand by his Master's side, as Decco looked back at them, wiping blood from his mouth. Demons could bleed, but blood for them was dark purple. Damascus was also bleeding from a cut above the left eye on his forehead, dripping down the side of his face with multiple lactations from hitting all that stone. But healing would take little time.

Decco got to his feet, but he knew when he was out-numbered. "This will not be last time we meet," he said, eyeing Damascus. "Mark my words, Damascus. You _will_ see me again."

And Decco vanished in a puff of smoke.

Damascus took a moment to heal his wounds, but he knew healing his fear of enclosed spaces would take a lot longer. He turned to his Master. "What is his problem?"

"Jealousy," Belial simply said. "He was one of my apprentices. I have trained many over the years and he dislikes sharing things with others, namely me. And he also fears you, Damascus."

"Me? Why should he fear me?"

"He would not have been watching your progress all these years if he did not fear you as a rival." Belial put a fatherly-like hand on Damascus's shoulder and smiled. "And he fears you for what you can become."

Damascus knew he was most assuredly not in Decco's league. He was not an all-powerful demon and was still an apprentice. And he knew without his master here Decco would have destroyed him. But he nodded to his master's belief and confidence in him nonetheless and vowed to grow stronger.

Much stronger.

"Let us return to the lesson," Belial said.

Damascus nodded slowly, but now wondered about Decco. He had made an enemy.

But he put it out of his mind.

He shared his master's gaze. Belial was looking up at the stone palace structure carved into the bedrock. He gave his master a look of "what-should-I-do?" But his master said nothing. Damascus knew how to "feel" energy, although Decco obviously masked himself when he appeared. Demon's can do this, so they can remain undetected by other demons if wanted. But what was _here_ for Damascus to feel here?

He closed his eyes, spread his arms out in front of him towards the stone structure to "feel" the little remains of the energy his master said was here.

And he felt something. He felt something big!

He dropped his arms and opened his eyes, and looked at his master with utter shock and disbelief. "Master, the power I feel here is massive. You told me - and Decco said - that there was very little energy left."

"I masked it. For I did not want Decco to feel it or take it."

"The power I feel is beyond anything I have ever felt! And Master, it's _unlike_ anything I have ever felt. I can not but wonder what _thing_ left this 'feeling' behind, for it is not human in origin."

Belial smiled. "That, my apprentice, is the next lesson. For not everything that exists or _once_ existed is _in_ our current knowledge_. _There are things beyond even angelic and demonic beings are commonly privy too. _This place _is a conduit to this knowledge. It is a gateway to this knowledge."

"How do we obtain this _secret _knowledge?"

"It is not secret knowledge, Damascus. The knowledge is mostly misunderstood and misinterpreted. And has often been misused with dire consequences. But I will show you how to harness it, when I deem you ready. When you are not so reckless."

Damascus smiled, then bowed at Belial's feet, looking down. "I will endeavor to impress you, my Master. I heed a vow this day forth, never the reckless one I will be. I will take care in everything I do."

Belial put what felt like a caring hand on Damascus's left shoulder. Damascus looked up into the demon's eyes, with their dark redness, but felt something of a different sort from him as of late. Belial was indeed an old man in his own rite, he had trained many demons and lived countless eons - fighting next to Lucifer during _the Great War in Heaven_, long before Damascus's time, and Belial chose to reside by Lucifer's side for all eternality. Lucifer had the utmost respect for Belial and had assigned him to train Damascus after recruiting him. From rumors Damascus had heard, Belial requested Damascus as his apprentice.

New demons were to be trained by lessor teachers with a firm, more ruthless grasp of what it was meant to be a demon - to scare, kill, and devour souls for pleasure. At first, this is what Damascus's training had consisted of, of a sort, but Belial wished to impose in him why a demon must do these things and not just be a prisoner of a demon's carnal desires. And he repeatedly attempted to convey this lesson.

Why.

And as Damascus continued to bow and gaze into his master's eyes, he finally, at this moment, understood the lesson. And his own words _had_ meaning for him. He must learn to become a leader and not just a follower like other demons. To succeed, you must sacrifice and learn, to advance.

He must also learn to follow.

But he must also learn when not to follow.

But it was not that time yet. He still had so much more to learn.

"You do me proud, my son," Belial said.

"Son?"

Belial blinked and his face folded in slightly as if taken aback by his own remark. "Forgive me. I have many children, your loyalty to me is very much like a son's. Someday, you will also plant your seed's and have children of your very own. Like humans, we demons don't just manifest out of thin air."

Damascus smirked, recalling that he had been recruited. "I know some eunuch demons."

This made Belial laugh. "Pray you never become one, Damascus. Only those who defy the will of Morning Star directly become one. Enjoy all the pleasures given to us, especially copulation."

And Damascus hoped one day, he will.

_**To be continued…**_


	13. A New Enemy Rises

_**[ AUTHOR'S NOTE: READER DISCRETION ADVISED FOR MATURE CONTENT. ]**_

_**CHAPTER 13 - "A NEW ENEMY RISES" **_

Abberline kept his eyes closed even though he had a pair of goggles on to prevent the wind sheer from burning them during the fast ride in the yet unknown "soapbox racer", but he prefer to call it a "roadstir" because of the way Trent Banes made turns, stirring up the road.

The "roadstir" made a sudden stop and Abberline finally opened his eyes to see why. When he did, he saw a small barn in the distance at the end of a gravel roadway ablaze.

Trent Banes cursed. "This only means one thing, they knew we were coming for you and knew precisely where we would be headed."

"This was the safe house?" Abberline asked.

"_Was_ is the correct word, Inspector," Trent said. "If they knew about this place, they know of the others. And I left Spencer alone back there." He cursed again.

"Should we go back for him?"

"No, Spencer can take care of himself. He will be fine. But we must find another place to hide you."

Abberline thought for a moment. "It's a long shot, but I think I may have an idea," he said.

"Where?"

And Abberline told him.

* * *

When Spencer Von Strauss finally awoke, he felt excessively groggy. He opened his eyes, but all he saw was blackness. Not an ounce of light hit his eyes.

And he felt cold. Very, _very_ cold. And he was trapped.

His wrists were shackled at his sides with very short length chains and his ankles were the same. He lain on something smooth, like marble, and it was cold, chilling his naked back. Trousers and his collar with the crucifix were the only things he felt he wore, as his shirt, socks and boots had been removed.

He felt every ounce of cold in this _place_ through his bare skin and if he didn't know it, he could swear he felt a cold breeze whisking around inside wherever this place was. And whoever had undressed him and shackled him like this, and here, obviously intended something sinister to happen.

Where am I?

The last thing he remembered was being struck on the back of the head with something hard in Abberline's home when he confronted a second assassin standing over the first, for which Spencer had killed. It had been the first time he had ever maliciously murdered anyone. But it was done in self-preservation. If his father knew that he had been feeding Abberline information on the Illuminati, he would be killed.

Which it appeared he was going to be.

He felt an aching throbbing from the back of his skull where he had been struck, but he knew the hit had not killed him, save for the darkness that surrounded him. It was not enough to, or so he thought. He still had his faculties - if he were dead, he could not feel the cold. This bitter cold he felt _here_.

He was a Christian and wholeheartedly believed in God, which is why he felt what the Illuminati were doing went against the very nature _His_ holiness. It was sacrilegious; engaged in debauchery; they participated in acts that worshipped false idols and demonic deities, against the very nature of _His_ very essence. He could understand how Holy Wars began.

Humans decided for themselves how they will live their lives, God gave them free will. But some people believed cleansing the world of "unclean" people will restore humanity in _His_ good graces. Wars would begin, and as the bible stated, even angels had doubts. They then became Fallen Angels. Demons were different, they were born evil, begot by other demons, and so on, and so on. All and all, born from darkness, to live in darkness…

This _dark place_ felt like a plateau between the living and the dead. The bitter coldness that resided in it filled his skin and bones with an eeriness and a fear that screamed for him to escape from. He struggled against the shackles, but to no avail. The sound they made echoed loudly in the _emptiness_ when he moved and all he could do was lay there and wait - wait for what was to be his fate.

How could be so stupid as to wage a silent war against the Illuminati? He wanted them to pay for what happened to his sister. He was at the ceremony. He watched her die. And he just stood there. Was he as guilty as them? When good men do nothing, it is the same as allowing evil to live. So from that day forth, he vowed to repent for all his sins, and take revenge on the Illuminati…

But was death his reward for his _good _efforts? Had God abandoned him?

Why hath thou forsaken me, my lord?

Or was this merely his brother's doing?

Had he become so outspoken about the Illuminati after his sister had been killed that he had finally gone too as to tell First-Inspector Frederick Abberline of them, in the hopes of exposing them? He knew of his father's disappointment, but would he go so far as to kill his own son to preserve the secrecy and the sanctification of these group of sadistic individuals?

Erich Von Strauss was a very unforgiving man. Was there nothing he would not do?

His father had sent out an assassin to murder a police inspector. And with the police commissioner an ally of Thann's, the killing would no doubt be covered up. Spencer may have been young, but he wasn't stupid. And yet, he had crossed the line this time by helping Abberline escape?

He thought about shouting out to his brother, but what would that prove other than he was scared. And the worse thing he could concede to was that he was frightened of what his brother might do to him. But there was something about this darkness, this emptiness, that truly frightened him. He had never been afraid of the dark when he was a child, but this was a darkness that honestly frightened him.

And he felt like he was being watched - that the darkness had eyes.

After what felt like an hour shivering in the cold, no one had come to see _visit him_. Was he here to be left to die, to freeze - a slow and agonizingly, painful death?

His teeth chattered and his body trembled with cold.

He had had enough. He was just about to shout out to his brother when a speck of light in the distance beyond his feet emerged like a beacon, but it was only a door opening, its iron hinges creaking, filling the emptiness…

His eyes went to focus and he found himself looking at the silhouette of a man, illuminated by soft light from the outside corridor. It was then the man snapped his fingers and eight torches burst to life, filling the room with bright light. And it was empty, save for it being largely circular in circumference and diameter with the walls painted black. The large marble "alter" he was chained to was the only item in the room.

The man wore all black and he was young in appearance, but he looked experienced and confident. His hair and long fingernails were as dark as night, but his skin was pale white like a ghost.

Spencer knew Thann had many unsavorily friends who enjoyed dwelling in dark, gothic habitats. This could be one of them. There were may mythological beings, like demons and other assorted demonic-like creatures, that humans praised and favored to be like because they were powerful in nature, and could not find their place in the world, so they engaged in devilish behavior, sharing their interests of others. There was a new wave of young men and woman who fed off this content and favored to be one with the dead, albeit symbolically. Although, some, like this man, decided to go one step further painting his fingernails black. Did he also fang his teeth and drink bloodwine like some crazy Bulgarian ruler in the 15th century?

The man smiled coolly as he approached the alter. He was tall, thin and reedy, like Thann, and was of the same height, but his brother was more muscular and expository in his black, leather attire. This man was similarly dressed, but his clothes were skin tight, arms sleeveless, with black pants and high boots. He also had a tattoo on his left arm in a circular pattern with inner-locking triangles with Latin writing. Spencer could only speak a few phrases of Latin, but he didn't know what these words or phrases on his arm said.

"Good evening, Herr Spencer Von Strauss," the man said with a mild English accent. But Spencer knew the man was not English, there was just something about him that hinted at such. "My, you are a delectable one." The man gently caressed Spencer's stomach with a very cold hand, making Spencer twinge.

"Stop that!" he demanded.

The man smiled coolly again, removing his hand, slowly closing it, his black nails receding in his palm. He backed away, but still kept within arms reach of the alter. "You oppose me touching you?"

"Most strongly! Who are you?"

"My name is unimportant at the moment, but what I can offer you will _be_ of importance soon."

Spencer still felt the icy coldness of the man's touch on his skin and it gave him an inner chill. He brought his arms up to the maximum height he could, bound in chains. "My only wish is to be freed. I have been stripped near bare. Do I have you do thank for this indignity?"

"Not I, Herr Strauss - "

"Don't refer to me by that!"

"It is a sign of status and your heritage, much like an English lord and his title when he comes of age. You and your brother were both born in England, but your father was both in Germany. And with your father in _his_ position of status, you should be respected. Albeit, you have disavowed him and his secret associations with a certain group of people because of their sinister nature and practices."

"My brother told you this? Yes, why else wouldn't he, if he plans to kill him this very day. My father and Thann have brought you here to torture me before my murder, so I will tell you where the inspector is."

The man waved off Spencer's assumptions. "The Abberline issue will be dealt with eventually. You were your father and brother's main objective. They hypothesized that you were the informant aiding Abberline in his secret investigation into the Phantomhive boy,and staged the assassination of the detective knowing fully that you would attempt to stop it. And you did. Thus, you are here."

The man reached into his a pants pocket and pulled out a folded picture of four individuals. Spencer knew immediately who they were: Mathu Kelvin, his gypsy squeeze, and the serial twins, Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt - for which he had taken this picture and given to Abberline. But where did this man get it? He had only taken and developed one picture, there were no duplicates.

But apparently this had been his downfall. He didn't know whence it had come from, but he wagered Thann had some how acquired it with help from the police commissioner of Scotland Yard. Thann was the Illuminati's chief investigator and envoy.

The man tossed it away as if it meant nothing, Spencer watching it until it flew out of sight. Then he returned his gaze to this man. "I will not tell you anything," he said.

"I have not asked any questions," the man said, "and nor will I need to."

"Then why am I here?" Spencer momentarily looked around the empty room. "Thann could have had me murdered at the Abberline home if there will be no interrogation. I have nothing to say that obviously my brother and the Illuminati are not already aware of. I am of no use to you."

"Everyone is useful in one fashion or another, even if they are unaware of their usage."

The man once again touched Spencer's stomach, then dragged his hand gently up to his chest and down the side of his body, giving Spencer an even greater chill. And involuntarily, Spencer's nipples tightened in the cold atmosphere of this place and his skin filled with goose bumps.

"I said stop that!" he demanded.

But the man continued, even going so far as to reach down his trousers. Spencer tightened his body, and the gentle, icy coldness of the man's touch caused him to breath out almost…pleasurably.

"Stop that, _please_!"

"Come, come, Herr Spencer. Your secret is out, so to speak. Someone has betrayed you. Your brother knows about you and your friend, Trent Banes. You are closer than anyone you hope will learn."

Spencer tightened up and gasped in a moment of panic. The man stopped, Spencer's eyes widened.

"Things happen, relationships blossom. You need not be fearful of the truth."

"You lie!"

"The body does not lie, you are aroused by my touch - and I knew you would be. I am the kind of person who _knows_ what I person most desires. And every human has desires. Sex is no different."

Spencer looked down and couldn't deny it. He gritted his teeth in anger. "I demand you stop this debauchery right _now_!"

"Sex is a part of human nature. The ancient Greeks engaged in 'debauchery' thousands of years ago to starve off frustration before Olympic competition because women were not allowed to attend and there were even bathhouses dedicated to it, it was socially acceptable - unlike today. Humans, as a species, are filled with urges. There are many more people like you in the world, Herr Strauss. You are not alone. Why be embarrassed by something that only comes natural?"

Spencer remained silent, admitting to nothing.

"You speak of debauchery and licentiate behavior regarding the Illuminati in their ceremonies, you disavow their barbarity and illicit sexual appetites and sacrifice as against the natural law of God. But you yourself engage in such behavior in secret with a childhood friend and seek pleasure from his embrace because you dare not hurt a woman, not after what you saw what your brother did to your sister. You watched, as he raped your sister, you listened to her screams, saw the blood dripping from her…"

Spencer's jaw tightened and his eyes closed, filling with tears. Then he shook his head. "Stop it, _please_."

"Then she was sacrificed. Your own brother stabbing her as he continued to rape her, thrusting harder, her screams louder not filled with pleas to stop but with pleasure, her blood dripping down from the alter into the catchers basin below, to be offered up to whatever demonic deity the Illuminati were worshipping, and then each member attending, sipping from her honeysuckle nectar, as she bleed to death."

And Spencer cried.

"After you saw this, this is when you began to turn away from your father's preaching's, and you told your friend about it. He knows how to keep a secret. And he tried to comfort you. It was then, when you were vulnerable, his own urges brought about, he, a few years older than you, set to ease your pain. And you gave in, then unknowing what true pleasure was, even during your entitlements with women in past ceremonies you grievously engaged in with the Illuminati, you accepting _their_ sacrifice to indiscernible deities."

Tears streamed down Spencer's face, but his face flushed when the man began to touch him once more, the chill of his hand bringing him to a form of ecstasy he had never felt. It was almost as if the man was generating something else with his touch throughout his body it make it more…

"There are two absolutes in this world, Herr Spencer Von Strauss - pleasure and pain. After pain, relief will set you free. Your brother has done more harm to you than even he knows, but I can take the pain away…"

"_Hoooow…_" Spencer said breathlessly, his eyes glittering, as he looked at the man down his naked chest, the man's face near his midsection. "I have sinned greatly, I deserve to die," he said softly and slowly.

"Do not throw your life away so haphazardly, young Strauss." The man straightened up, not doing what Spencer thought he was about to do. "You can be of great use to me in the war yet to come."

"War?" The man crossed the open space of the room and went to stand next to the black wall, he appeared to blend with it. The torch lights dimmed considerably, as if by his command, darkening the room. Spencer's vision was blurred by his tears and the man's form faded, save for two red dots. "Who are you?"

"I am he whom you will now refer to as Master."

And Spencer felt an overwhelming compulsion to agree.

* * *

Thann Von Strauss leaned against the stone-walled corridor of an old prison complex outside a closed, thick iron door. It had felt like an hour since he had come here. His arms were crossed with frustration in having to wait. The corridor was poorly lit with new electrical lightning that flickered in the coldness of the place, a place where many men had died from crimes against the British Crown. It was then shut down and purchased by Thann's father to be revamped for the Illuminati. The room Spencer was in was only the first room to be redone. It was an simple sacrificial room with a large stone alter.

The man who was inside the room behind a closed door requested the room be painted black, and his father approved it. Why black, Thann didn't know, and frankly, didn't much care. Thann's father had told him to deal with his brother when it was learned Spencer was Abberline's informant. It was a task that Thann was not looking forward to, but was compelled to oblige. No one was above the Illuminati. But the man who had come with him, appointed by his father, a new face within the Illuminati, had wished to do the interrogation, and then the killing. Rather than getting his hands soiled with Spencer's blood, he let the man do it.

But oddly enough, he had not heard Spencer scream once. And why was it taking so long?

The door finally opened, and the man emerged, licking his fingers.

"Is it done?" he demanded, straightening, unfolding his arms.

"Of a sort. I did not kill him, however. He told me something interesting, thus I left him alive. For now."

Thann scowled. "That was not why you went in there. What did he tell you?"

"Nothing that will concern you."

Thann looked disgusted by what the man continued to do, if it was indeed what he thought it was. He had told the man of Spencer's relationship with his friend Trent and hoped to use to against him to get information on where Trent Banes had taken Abberline. The man had seemed intrigued by the information, as if it was a great levy to use against his brother. Which, for fear of anyone else but Thann knowing, it would be; he, himself, learning by accident one night, when he found the pair in bed together sleeping.

Fear was a great motivator for keeping secrets.

Thann looked past the man and into the torch lit room where he saw his brother still chained, but unconscious, lain on the alter, his trousers untouched. But his collar with the crucifix had been ripped from his throat and tossed to the floor.

The man then pulled out a small sugar cake he got somewhere... that he had in his other hand, and chuckled to himself, as if reading Thann's mind.

"I do so much enjoy this stuff," the man said. "Sugar cane." He devoured the rest whole, chewing.

"Did you find out where Trent Banes took Abberline?" Thann looked back at the man, somewhat relieved that his initial idea behind the man licking his fingers had been incorrect.

The man spoke when he finished eating. "Your brother doesn't know."

"You said you could learn this information."

"A person can not reveal what they do not know."

"If Trent attempts to take Abberline to any of my brother's 'secret' safe houses, they will be out of luck," Thann said. "But it doesn't matter now. Abberline's investigation into Lukas Phantomhive is at an end. And Bryon Kelvin is no where to be found. He is a very elusive man even to us."

"Or he has blinded you to his whereabouts," the man said. "Evil is powerful, it knows how to hide. Lazarus still wishes him found for his crimes against his son, notwithstanding. The twins were working for him and kidnapped his son and then gave him to the Inner Circle for their sacrifices that eventually brought forth their own finality. But in their misfortunate, they did happen to succeed, only for it to destroy them."

"This is why Lazarus wants Sebastian Michaelis. And this is why you are here. No one knew that _two_ demons came through the gateway that fateful day."

The man - _the demon _- chuckled. "And neither does _Sebastian Michaelis_."

"But you only went to Lazarus just recently, Decco. What have you been doing for two and a half years?"

"Preparing," Decco said simply. "And soon, I will be ready."

**To be continued…**


	14. Death And Rebirth

_**CHAPTER 14 - "DEATH AND REBIRTH"**_

_**In the Drawing Room of the Phantomhive Mansion…**_

"How do you wish to approach this, brother?" Lukas said. Renfrew had told them that Lazarus may be in possession of certain religious scrolls that plausibly contained spells of resurrection. "If indeed what he has is true, I would agreed, wholeheartedly, that our parents could - and _should_ - be restored from death."

"If what Lazarus has can be taken _with_ validity, that is," Ciel said. "There have been many hoaxes throughout the ages that have promised such things - the foundation of youth and alchemists promising gold from base metals, for example. None of which have come to pass as far as I know…" He looked to the Undertaker for confirmation.

Salem chuckled, but merely put up his hands. He remained sitting in his chair albeit leaning back in it. "If indeed such things _have_ come to pass, my lord, I can not tell you. I am bound by Reaper policy. If such information were to ever be revealed, I would say it would cause chaos in the human world."

"Indeed, but in the right hands, each one I stated would benefit _one_ greatly."

"Vanity and greed are two of human's greatest flaws, among others."

Ciel did not disagree.

"But I can tell you," Salem continued, "that Lazarus is getting close. All he needs is Sebastian's demonic powers to give the words of the scrolls he has power. And if other factors are in place, whatever they may be, then his son may indeed rise from the grave with his soul returning to his body. And there is nothing the _Reaperdum_ can do about it, because it is very old magic."

"What do you mean? I thought the Reapers were all-knowing, all-seeing people?" Lukas said.

Salem looked at him. "You are mistaken in that assumption, my lord. We see what we are able, and if an event occurs, we can look back and learn how it occurred, but we can not reverse the happenstance."

"But you can look into the future and see what will transpire, correct?"

"Correct. But we Reapers rarely interfere in human affairs unless authorized to do so."

"I believe we should give Lazarus what he wants," Ciel then stated.

Renfrew finally spoke up, listening to the other's discuss matters that didn't concern him. But this did.

If Ciel did give Lazarus Sebastian, then Lazarus would honor his promise to release his spirit from eternal damnation and wipe away the sin of his suicide - a sin, the ultimate sin, and the only sin God did not give forgiveness for, because you threw away the precious gift of life _He_ granted.

"I agree," he said. "Give Lazarus what he wants."

"Pardon?" Lukas retorted. "How could you agree to that?"

"I believe your brother is regarding his decision on the logical assumption that would benefit all parties involved. If Lazarus has the scrolls and can resurrect his son, then he can do the same with your parents, and in the process, erase the covenant Ciel has with Sebastian once the demon's powers are utilized."

"A demonic covenant can not just be _erased_," Lukas said, but not confidently. He looked to the Undertaker for confirmation, but Salem appeared to be thinking, looking blankly despite his eyes were hidden behind long baings of hair. Lukas turned back to Renfrew. "And if so, then where would it leave Sebastian?"

"Dead," Renfrew said simply. "Demons can die just like all beings."

Lukas blinked flabbergasted, and looked at Ciel, who looked indifferent to killing Sebastian. Then he eyed Renfrew with contempt with his sudden revelation. "You planned this all along, you damn ghost. You and Lazarus are in cahoots. You concocted a plan to incapacitate Sebastian so Lazarus could retrieve his body and use him in a ceremony to resurrect his dead son."

"There may have been some planning involved, I will admit," Renfrew said. "But I do not regret it."

"Why? What do you get from these actions?"

"Release from damnation." Renfrew's voice was icy cold. "Suicide is a sin unforgivable in the eyes of God. In helping Lazarus resurrect his son, whom of which was in the amphitheatre on the day of _the Great Death _with Ciel, and for whom Sebastian slaughtered the Inner Circle members with countless others - including kidnapped children to be used as sacrifices like Ciel - I can, hopefully, redeem myself in God's eyes by killing one of his enemies, while benefiting one of his innocent children killed by one of Lucifer's children."

"Ah," Salem said, putting up a hand, "but you have not revealed the whole story, have you?" Renfrew eyed him. "The true nature of your guardianship in Lukas's mind, for example."

"Be quiet, old man. This is not the time or place for _that_ conversion."

Salem chuckled again, apparently not taking offense to being called 'old', which in fact he was - _very_ old - regardless of his youthful appearance. "But everything _is_ interconnected and it revolves around Sebastian. Allow me to get this little piece of information out in the open and then we will leave it at that, for now."

Ciel put closed fist on his hips. "So it is decided, we give Lazarus Sebastian."

"No, it is _not_ decided, brother," Lukas protested strongly. "And I disagreed with merely handing him over to be murdered, unable to defend himself in his present state. We do not know if Lazarus has this power, and if so, what havoc is could cause to the natural world."

"In the natural world? You are a fool, Lukas. Evil men murdered out parents, kidnapped you, tried to kill me - and then attempted to set upon having us be used as pawns to release a demon from Hell's Gates. And you protest in correcting these evil deeds? We could also restore all those children Sebastian murdered and return them to their grieving parents…undo many _wrongs_."

"How very generous of you, my lord," Salem said, somewhat sarcastically.

For a moment Lukas stood speechless. His mouth opened, but no words came out, and he looked around the room, at Salem, at Renfrew, and then back at Ciel, for some hint of what was the right decision. And he was conflicted on the moral/ethical decision. Sebastian had saved him from the Fallen Reapers and helped him restore some of his memories, but would sacrificing him for the sake of restoring the lives of his parents and others be the best thing? He slumped his shoulders. He didn't know what to do or say.

Ciel's teeth showed as he smiled smug. "For once, Lukas, I have you speechless. No argument of ethics spewed at me, because you know I am right. We will heed a partnership with Lazarus, restore our parents back to the living, void my covenant with Sebastian and then live out our lives as intended. _Happy_."

"I still think this is wrong…"

"Then you an idiot."

For once, Lukas did not retort, and slumped further into his chair around the table. But if what Ciel had planned _did_ succeed, could he really be happy knowing that he had sacrificed a friend for it?

A entity suddenly appeared. It was another Reaper.

It was Grell Sutcliffe in his blood red attire and ankle length coat, long red hair and standard black Reaper spectacles. He didn't look happy, hands cupped on his hips. "I won't allow it, I simply won't allow it! You won't hand over sweet, lovable Bassey to a complete stranger! Not if I have anything to say about it!"

* * *

Three members of the Illuminati stood in the main audience hall chambers of their congregation building. It was decorated wall-to-wall with carpeting and laminate flooring, and on the walls were banners and tapestry's with symbols of the Illuminati.

In the far end of the room was a stage with stairs on either side, housing a podium where the Head of the Branch stood during meetings reciting recent events and future plans, Wilhelm Lycan Lazarus III.

Lazarus wasn't here, but three branch mangers were and they were concerned. They stood together on a lengthy blood red carpet embroiled with the iconic symbol of the Illuminati, adopted from their brethren in America, for which these three men had great invested business interests in aside from within the British Commonwealth. It was said America was where the power and money was and the Illuminati now had their hands in every aspect of its society - every social, political and financial circle, albeit secretly.

"He has become ever more delusional," McDermott said. "Lazarus must be outcasted."

"I concur with Brother McDermott," Erich Von Strauss said to the other man with them. "A new leader of this branch _must_ be appointed."

"The next in line is yourself, Brother Von Strauss," Thibeau said. "But a vote must be cast."

"We are the three highest members, we can make the decision _now_."

"The council must make the final decision, even if we three are in agreement," McDermott said.

"Then we are in agreement? Tell the council to remove Lazarus. Accounts have reported that he has squandered hundreds of thousands of dollars on his personal quest to resurrect his dead son with no legitimacy to his claim that it can be done."

"It can't be done, Brother Von Strauss," McDermott said. "Once a person is dead, they are dead. And yes, I am in full agreement with you for Lazarus to be removed from office. And I have it on good authority that every member of the immediate council is in accord with our sentiments. It will only take a day for the change in leadership to happen, then your inauguration can take place. Lazarus has no more allies here."

The sound of the main audience hall chambers large wide doors opening abruptly interrupted their reverie, and to all their shock, Lazarus strolled in with a small child about ten years of age. Lazarus wore a black large handkerchief or head-chief on his head, tied at the back. It covered his entire head and forehead.

The child smiled. He had thick blonde hair that came down to his light-colored eyebrows. And he wore a custom-tailored white suit and white tie. In all intended purposes, the boy looked an angel.

It also just so happened to be the same white suit that Johnny Lazarus had been wearing and buried in after Lazarus demanded the pieces of the boy's body be sworn together after he was found in the amphitheatre being used by the Inner Circle to conduct their bloodlust sacrifices. Lazarus later exhumed the body and mummified his son, after he found what he said were sacred scrolls in a cave along the west bank of the Dead Sea, that supposedly explained the true nature of how Jesus Christ rose from the dead. And if was true, could be used to resurrect anyone back from the afterlife.

And there was not a mark on the child to indicate anything of such occurred. He looked perfectly healthy.

"Do you think me mad now, gentleman?" Lazarus said, placing a gentle hand on his son's head. "And he remembers very little of the event or the kidnapping before, but what he does remember, he accepts. I told you it could be done, but you failed to believe in your leader. And now you wish to remove me from office?"

McDermott, Thibeau and Erich all looked at each other dumbfounded.

"You have spies here, Lazarus?" Von Strauss said.

It was then a young man in dark clothes and dark hair with a sleeveless shirt with several tattoos on his left and right upper arms emerged, hiding from behind a support pillar in the audience hall. He had been listening to their conversion. "Not necessarily spies, gentleman," he said. "But the walls do have eyes and ears, especially in a place like this…"

"Say hello, Johnny," Lazarus then said to the three gentleman.

"Hello," the boy said plainly. "Father, are these the bad men you spoke of?"

"Yes, son. They are _very_ bad men."

"I don't like them. They should be punished for betraying you."

Again, the three members looked dumbfounded, and even shocked.

"Now wait a moment, Lazarus," McDermott spoke up. "We were only thinking of what was best for the branch. Your escapades to restore your son were thought delusional. Is this really your son? How was it done? My wife died last year from an illness. Will you show me this power to bring her back?"

The dark dressed man spoke, waving a hand and a finger. "Secrets, gentleman, are meant to be kept." He then ventured to stand next to Lazarus. "But what I _can_ tell you is death is merely the beginning of a journey without end…and everything has a price."

Lazarus took off the head-chief and relieved a tattoo burned into his forehead contrast to his white hair. It was circular in design with triangular shapes and Latin script written within.

A second person then strode into the audience chambers from the outside corridor.

It was a younger looking man in his later teens. His hair was as black as night and he wore a sleeveless jacket and leather trousers that appeared one-size too small. The jacket fit the curves of his slim body with a zipper up the front and a low V-neck, exposing a portion of his stomach, and complementing it, he was wearing a pair of low-cut trousers that fit to show a good deal of his pelvic area in an exhibitory manner. He wore dark, leather straps around both his exposed, upper arms and wrists, locked in place with golden buckles, and another, but larger one around his neck, that looked like a standard dog collar, locked with another golden buckle. On his forehead was a tattoo like Lazarus's. In one black finger-nailed hand, and in black, leather, fingerless glove, was a black, bloodied and torn collar and crucifix.

And Erich Von Strauss gasped. "Spencer?"

"Hello, _father_," he said contemptuously. "I have finally embraced my inner-self, shedding off conservatism and social stigma. My eyes are opened and now I am one with my _true_ Master. Thann tried to have me killed, so I did him in kind - when I was reawakened and was reborn." Spencer threw the bloodied collar down between them, then licked his lips. "He raped and murdered my sister during a ceremony for the Illuminati, and you favored him for it. Thann was always your favorite. You sent him after me… So I struck back. I bit into his neck, then bit off his instrument of damnation."

Erich's mouth went agape. "Oh…my…_lord!_" he said, stammering in utter shock. "Thann…is…_dead_?"

"A fitting end for one such as he and the atrocities he committed as the Illuminati's envoy." Spencer reached into a pocket and brought out a worn, folded photograph. The same one that had condemned him. "My epitaph was written when I chose to defy the will of the Illuminati, but now I have been reborn." He threw the photograph to the floor with the bloodied collar and crucifix.

"The inner-hate you showed me when you ripped apart your brother in contempt and revenge is more valuable to me than he would ever have been to be as a loyal dog with free-will," the man in black said. Spencer gave him a sideways glance and a nod, accepting his new status at his side.

His father looked at him in utter shock. "You were always _the good_ _son_. I regretted what happened to your sister. But there was nothing I could have done. Lazarus demanded her! He said it would strengthen the covenant between me and the Illuminati if I sacrificed her…"

Erich Von Strauss dropped to his knees and began to whimper, covering his face with his hands. It was a side no one had ever thought to see. He was always thought to be stone-faced, an unforgiving man, with no loyalty to but his own ambition in life. Perhaps the idea of losing _both_ his sons, and now all his children, caused him to have a mental breakdown.

But Spencer had no sympathy for him, not in his new state of being, not after everything his father had done to him over the years; the mental abuse and showing of nepotism to his brother Thann for his entire life.

"Those are demonic covenants!" Thibeau shouted, pointing at Spencer's and Lazarus's heads. "And the boy probably has one somewhere on his body, too!"

Lazarus lifted up Johnny's hair and exhibited the same covenant mark shared by himself and Spencer.

"Correct, _Brother_ Thibeau. My name is Decco. And I am building an army. These three have been reborn and I am their master. You either join them or die." Decco expressed a short laugh. "But when I mean die, your soul will be devoured and you will swim within me for all eternality. Make your choice."

"You poisoned my son, you bastard!" Erich Von Strauss cursed, staring with hate into Decco's eyes. He raised his right hand. On one finger was a non-descriptive ring and with a twitch of a finger, it fired! It stuck Decco in the forehead, the impact dropping him down.

"Master!" Spencer screamed.

"My son isn't the only inventive one! If it wasn't for you, he could have marketed that vehicle he and his friends had crafted! You stole him from me! I did it for you, son."

Spencer growled at his father.

Decco lain on the floor, but it wasn't long before a muffled chuckling began, and he rose straight up, levitating like a god to his feet. He spit out the small piece of lead with a small ounce of purple blood. "It would appear that your father has made his choice, Spencer," Decco said with some amusement. "I give him to you as a gift. Do with him what you wish. Have fun."

Spencer grinned innately as he looked at his father.

Erich Von Strauss's screams echoed the audience hall as his son murdered him with brutality and pent-up hate and malice, blood and bodily tissue spewing everywhere. Now that he was a demon, he had powers and abilities he could not even imagine and he was not afraid to test out each and every one of them…

Meanwhile, Decco and Lazarus focused on McDermott and Thibeau who were now on their knees begging for their lives.

"What shall we do with them, Master?" Lazarus said. "They appear to wish to _live_."

"And so they shall, but I need a little muscle in our motley crew," Decco said. "Separately they poise no threat, but _as one _they shall be menacing indeed…"

* * *

"What do you mean Lazarus has already succeeded in resurrecting his son?" Lukas demanded, when Grell told them, no longer needing Sebastian's power to do so. "How do you know this?"

"He had help from another demon who came through the gateway _secretly_ with Sebastian two and half years ago," the Reaper explained. "He stayed reserved until now. I don't know if Sebastian even knows… but he has made a covenant with Wilhelm Lazarus. He is also building an army of possessed souls."

Salem put a hand to his chin. "This _is_ distressing," he said. "It appears things have changed and quite drastically, I may add. The Reaperdum didn't see this coming. This demon hid himself well."

"Knowing Lazarus, he must have agreed to this demon's coy if it meant returning his son to the living," Renfrew said. "This means he has betrayed me!"

"Did you have any doubt?" Ciel said snidely. "Men like him always betray others for their selfish means."

"But does this mean…our parents will not…" Lukas started.

"I have been meaning to mention," Salem said, "you could not resurrect your parents, anyway. The bodies of your parents were burned to ash in the fire that took their mansion. You need a body to re-introduce a soul back into it. Lazarus kept his son's body and this is how the demon was able to resurrect _him_."

Lukas averted his gaze from Ciel who eyed him contemptuously. Ciel had forgiven him for setting fire to their parents' mansion under Bryon Kelvin's influence. But there may have been a chance to bring them back to life with Lazarus's secret. Now it was gone. And Lukas was to blame.

"What of the secret scrolls?" Renfrew asked.

"They were pyrite - fools treasure. Words only," Grell said. "This is why Lazarus probably made a deal with the demon when invited. It was the only way to bring his son back from the dead."

"But I imagine it cost him dearly," Salem added.

Ciel let out a deep sigh. "What is our next move?" he said.

"Our next move, my lord?" Salem answered.

"_Our_ main objective still remains regardless of this third party threat. Lazarus and his demon can wait. How do we restore Sebastian back to us? If this demon and his army come for us, for whatever reason, we will need protection." Ciel looked directly at Renfrew. "Undo what you have done to Sebastian ghost. _Now_!"

Renfrew shook his head. "It can not be undone. Only when the cycle of his memories have ended."

"And when will this be?"

"When he made the covenant with you."

"How old is Sebastian?"

"I don't know. But he is only half way into his life-time memories."

"You think too linear, Renfrew," Salem said. "Time itself is one-way, but memories can be sped up and chosen at random. Time is superfluous, but a person only necessarily remembers a fraction of a memory and can jump to it when thought of." He looked at Ciel and Lukas. "Would you like to see what Sebastian is experiencing and thinking about at this moment?"

Ciel and Lukas looked at the other, their eyes widened with involuntary enthusiasm.

"Indeed," they both said in unison.

But before they would indulge in this, a loud revving, mechanical noise was heard from outside. Ciel went to the window and saw an unusual site, describing such to the others. There was a low two-seater, long nose vehicle of sorts pulling up the winding roadway to the mansion…

And First-Inspector Frederick Abberline of Scotland Yard and one other person were seated inside.

**To be continued...**


	15. Damascus's Experiment

_**CHAPTER 15 - "DAMASCUS'S EXPERIMENT"**_

After a feeding frenzy on the Virginea Par coastline in a small village called Roanoke in the year AD 1590, Damascus wiped his mouth of dripping blood.

Roanoke had been an English colony of the "New World", where immigrates flocked to the Western continents in hopes of re-colonization, traveling by carrier ship across the Atlantic Ocean. And this village was one of the first colonies to be settled, to fully establish a new English dominance here. But they had isolated themselves next to native tribes that out-numbered them a thousand to one.

Elsewhere, the Anglo-Spanish War continued. England and Spain continued to fight in a non-declared war over religious issues and monarchy rule that sparked several intermittent battles and conflicts. And due to this, the colony of Roanoke was left to fend for themselves, no supply ships had come in over three years. After the first year, the colony began to befriend the two native tribes that resided in and around the area of the Virginea Par - the Secotans and the Croatans - to help them survive on their own. And the colony began to live off the land and build aqueducts for fresh water and other facilities that would gave them the ability to be self-sufficient. Because it was obvious they were utterly alone.

In essence, they had been forgotten.

And it was perfect.

It was sad in a way, because Damascus had enjoyed being in their presence for the last three years. But his Master had said that he was being contaminated by human influences, basking in their culture and speaking their languages, after spending so much time with these people.

His Master had asked why Damascus had decided to remain with these people instead of embarking with others, with more sophisticated venues and cultures. The English were basically beginning a journey of a thousand steps and Damascus had found their endurance fascinating. Thus spent a great deal of time with Englanders, even 'growing' with them to blend in. He had grown a little taller, a little leaner, and allowed his hair to grow longer, for which he had tied a portion of it at the back with a ribbon.

Throughout his time, he even befriended people and had relationships and got a job on the docks hauling cargo. Basically, he wanted something more than Demonhood. He wanted to experience _life_, instead of merely devouring it. His Master had taught him many things, gave him raise to many skills, but Damascus wanted _something else_, and England gave him a opportunity to ease his boredom. Thus, he set aside his demon hood and became a human once more, where he eventually agreed to join this new colony.

But alas, after three years, his hunger became too much to bare, and he ate and ate and ate…gorging himself on the colonists he had befriended, devouring their souls and feeding on their flesh. And now, as he stood in a field of blood and body tissue, he sighed dejected. His experiment to rejoin humanity in some fashion had failed, but it did not take away the fact that he _had_ resisted his demon urges for three years.

His Master appeared before him, like a wink in the night. The chaos Damascus had caused loomed all around him, his body saturated in crimson from all the blood and broken bodies strewn everywhere. And Belial gazed around with his hands on his hips, looking at the destruction and death Damascus had caused. But he did not appear happy. In fact, he looked rather disappointed.

"Are you finished?" was all Belial said.

Damascus breathed a little heavy. He allowed his urges to run rampant and this was the result, an unconscious bloodlust. The entire colony of perhaps a few hundred were all dead.

Damascus said nothing, he didn't need to.

"This _crusade_ of yours in attempting to reintegrate yourself into human society is foolish."

Damascus sighed forlorn, then said, "I lasted three years without succumbing to my urges, Master."

"And what did it accomplish? Tell me."

Damascus had no regrets for what he had just done, but he did feel a little guilty as he looked upon some of the people he had befriended over the years, one of which he had been a close, dear friend… his body broken, torn, his eyes forever expressing shock and awe. Damascus had saved him for last. He wanted to, at least, to give his man final witness to who Damascus really was.

Damascus said, "Discipline, Master."

"There is discipline, Damascus, and then there is foolishness. If we are hungry, we eat. We devour souls for nourishment when the opportunity arises. I taught you how to survive as a demon, not for you to set aside your teachings to pretend to be one of them again. _Vuoi che io di inviare indietro?_"

Damascus's eyes widened in shock. His Master had just spoken Italian to him, Damascus's native language when he was a boy. "Do you wish me to send you back?" he said.

His mind immediately raced back to that fateful day when Vesuvius erupted at Pompeii, where he lain dying, burned, and in agony - it was the only time he truly felt fear. And in nearly a millennia, this was the first time his Master actually threatened to return him back to that day.

To the day of his death…

And consequentially rebirth.

What Damascus was doing, then, was truly disappointing to his Master if he said this in Italian, the very language Damascus purposely avoided speaking because he did not want to be reminded of that day. His Master would not have done such if he were not truly disappointed in him. Pompeii was still a sore spot with Damascus and his Master knew it. It would only take the blink of an eye to reverse everything Damascus was today if Belial wished it.

Damascus looked astray abashed. "No, Master. I was merely experimenting…"

"I disapprove of this 'disobedience' as of late and I demand it ceases. You can not deny who you are, Damascus. You made a choice. The decision was yours, now you must live with the consequences."

"I was forced into making the choice," Damascus muttered to himself. "The mountain blew up."

But it appeared Belial had heard his low-tone nonetheless when Damascus looked into Belial's eyes, and the powerful demon simmered in anger and rage. His 'human' form changing to a sinister demonic aptitude and then back again.

Belial slapped Damascus hard across the face. "You will obey me, Damascus! I will not tolerate this insolence!"

Damascus recoiled from the impact and at the moment felt cowardice. Belial roared in annoyance, his fists clenched tight. Belial had only recently demonstrated an intolerance to all things undemon-like. He had become more hostile and angry and short-tempered as of late, he was normally a tempered man. Biblical interpretations of him were greatly exaggerated. He was a teacher, a noble-man, and a man of great wisdom. He was older than Time itself, at least older than Time on this planet.

Damascus had an idea why his Master was so angry, he had heard rumors from other demons - friends - who had visited him in Roanoke. And he accepted his Master 's attack on him without recourse.

Damascus straightened. "Forgive me, Master," he said, the throbbing of his face giving him pain. "I did not mean to disappoint you. May I be so bold as to ask - is it Decco again? What as he done this time?"

Belial looked at him with blood-filled eyes, but then they softened as he calmed himself. He nodded. He took a moment to cup Damascus's face, the very place Belial had hit him. Damascus's instinct was to flinch, but he did not. "Do not take my striking you personally, Damascus, it was not directed upon you. You are like a son to me and a father should not strike a child. I know you have been 'bored', that you have engaged in this human experiment for something more in existence while I have been away on business.

"Your training was put on hold for this duration. You are patient, Damascus. This is a trait very few demons possess. Some have said those I train now are dumb and worthless under my tutelage, and are not worth association - rumors spread by a certain someone we both know, and this vexes me greatly. For it is not true. I have trained thousands of demons of worth - you being one of them. In fact, you are my prized student."

Damascus remained humble.

"And you are correct. My anger issues are with Decco. He has been running amok, and Morning Star is very displeased. My prior apprentice has fallen out of favor with Morning Star and he wishes me to deal with his recklessness as of late. He has been defiant and destructive, basically creating a nuisance."

"He has not bothered me since our first encounter in nay 400 years when he threatened me."

Belial's eyes narrowed. "Nay? Damascus? You have spending too long with these Englanders. You have picked up some of their vacuolar and poor speech habits, and have even developed an English accent. You used to speak quite elegantly. Do not soil yourself by lowering yourself to their level."

"Forgive me, Master. It has grown apparent to me, as well. When spending a great deal of time in a particular culture, one picks up their way of speech. I will endeavor to correct this _bad habit_. Notwithstanding, my experiment with human culture has aided me to keep up-to-date with the times."

"Decco considers you beneath him, this is why he has not bothered you. He believes your continuous interaction with humans makes you weak."

"I do so to bask in bettering myself, Master, not to reintegrate myself back within the culture. Humans have grown considerably as a species since I was one of them. I believe educating one-self with a growing culture will help _our culture_ better interpret their strengths and weaknesses for _we_, as demons, to survive the ages."

"A noble cause, Damascus. I should have considered this fact and should not have struck you."

"I do not hold it against you, Master."

"And you should not. But do not forget either. For learning about a person's personality is equally important. You can use this weaknesses against them and lure then off-guard off to strike at their heart."

Damascus nodded. "A well learned lesson, Master."

"But Decco is an exception to the rule. Do not underestimate him. His anger is his greatest weakness, but it his greatest strength, as well. The angrier he becomes, the stronger he becomes. But he also becomes less focused and he makes mistakes. He lets his emotions rule him. And what you have been doing, angers him, for he hates humans with a passion, and believes demons should not be interacting with them on a social level. He believes it demeans our culture. He believes they are food and nothing more."

"Then he is mistaken in his assumption."

"Decco has been terrorizing humans as of late, and Morning Star fears with enough time, humans will cease to be afraid of us because we will appear so often. He wishes our culture to remain anonymous, apart from the human realm. Decco is playing with humans, challenging some of their greatest fighters. At one time, humans feared us, now we are becoming common place in their culture and not so much feared as revered."

"Revered? The world is highly volatile, filled with religious connation and fear of such. It is a powder-cake ready to explode, and the Anglo-Spanish War happening now between Spain and England is proof of this. But I must admit, it is more about rule than religion. Religion has become second nature in Humanity's tone, replaced by fear of the ruination of one's reputation than being cast into the fiery depths of Hell."

"This is why we demons remain in the shadows, to keep this fear. We take what is needed, to endow this fear. We put forth the idea of a vengeful god when we act, to evoke the _idea _of God's wrath upon the wicked, but we are not helping _Him_. We do so to serve our own purposes, even though sometimes our ideologies coincide. God has allowed Morning Star to exist for this very purpose, even after he lost the Holy War in Heaven and was banished. God is not as forgiving as _He_ appears, and he tolerates Morning Star because he serves a purpose. For as long as Hell exists, we demons exist, and it plays to God's ego."

Damascus chuckled at the mention of God's ego. And Damascus knew an entity of such magnitude would have one and a very large one to demanded complete and utter loyalty to implement ten commandments, whereas the first commandment urged that there will be no other god but Him. Regardless of this, humanity still prayed to semi-deities and new religions sprouted up almost on a daily bases throughout the world. It was ironic, however, that every _other_ religion around the world catered to falsehoods when there was, in reality, only one true, powerful, supernatural being. And Damascus was not thinking of Morning Star. And yet, would the shoe be on the other foot if Morning Star had won the Holy War?

"So Decco is being counter-productive," Damascus said.

"Correct."

"How do we stop him?"

Belial's cheeks crinkled up slightly as a smile broadened his face. "_We_, Damascus?"

"Yes, Master. I am a demon, and thus have an invested interest in preserving _my_ way of existence. And if Decco is on a rampage of self-destructive behavior, then he must be stopped at all costs."

"I like your way of thinking, Damascus, and I agree whole-heartedly. But your training is not yet complete. At this stage, you would be no match for Decco's powers."

"I have been alone for three years without you, but I have not been slacking off in continuing to better myself and improving my _own_ powers, Master. If he so believes that I am a disgrace to the Demonhood because I have socializing with humans, then he will learn the error of his ways of self-omniscience."

Damascus made a gesture with a hand and the blood that saturated his entire body and clothes evaporated. Clean once more, he made another gesture - a whisking movement of one arm - and all the bodies of the slaughtered colonists vanished into nothingness. Then he went to a tree near-by and with a sharp nail, began to carve into it a word of sorts: CROATAN.

"_Croatan_ - what is that?" Belial asked.

"It is the name of one of the tribes that live near-by that the colony befriended," Damascus explained. "The tribesmen helped them to survive when England 'forgot' about the colony when the war with Spain began. There have been no supply ships in three years. And you know the mentality of some people when their fellow countrymen fall at the hands of a large group of _indistinguished_ others."

"Ah." Belial nodded. "So you wish to blame the mysterious disappearance of the colonists on them?"

"It is the perfect cover, Master." Damascus finished off the carving. "Regardless, by the time the truth is revealed, the Croatan's will have died of disease that the colonists brought with them - an air born contamination that their bodies have no immunity from; they are already beginning to show signs of it - and conjecture will arise that the colonists were cannibalized because it was feared they were encroaching upon the tribes domain. Like all things, it is the way of colonization. To kill off, however intentionally or unintentionally, the previous people to make room for yourself. In this case, all will die. And the mystery of the lost colony of Roanoke will reside within the annals of time for ages to come."

"You are ruthless when the time calls for it, Damascus."

"I have an excellent teacher."

And Belial laughed.

* * *

Fredrick Abberline knocked on the front door to the Phantomhive mansion with Trent Banes at his side. They had arrived in Spencer Von Strauss's smartly built vehicle that Abberline called a "roadstir". Abberline thought of it as such because of its slick design, the speed in which it traveled and how it moved with an almost effortless maneuverability. It was truly a thing of ingenuity.

But this was a secondary thought. Spencer Von Strauss had saved him from a bounty hunter at his home and had called in a friend to whisk him away to safety while Spencer dealt with clean-up issues. Only when they arrived at Spencer's safe house, it had been set ablaze by unknown forces. Trent suspected the Illuminati. And that if they knew to destroy Spencer's safe house that no one knew about but Spencer and Trent, then there would be no where else safe. And this was when Abberline suggested coming to the Phantomhive mansion. Albeit, Abberline only knew the family on a professional level, but he could not think of anywhere else to go, and he knew Ciel would have connections to help them.

Tanaka answered the door. "First Inspector Abberline, what an unexpected surprise," the elderly butler said.

"Tanaka, is it? Is Ciel or Lukas at home?" Abberline said quickly, not giving the man time to add further to his greetings at the door. Although, he hoped more so Ciel was at home. "It is urgent we speak with them. And no, this is not an official calling," he said just as quickly, eliminating any questions to be had. "This is Trent Banes, a young man I am traveling with. He shares this urgent business we wish to talk about."

"Then come in, gentleman. The master's are at home."

As if on cue, both Ciel and Lukas entered the main vestibule alone as Abberline and Trent entered.

"What is all this then?" Ciel demanded. "Ah." Ciel spread his arms out wide. "Inspector Abberline and guest, to what do we owe the honor of a visit from one of Scotland Yard's finest?"

"Scotland Yard's finest?" Abberline was a bit taken aback by Ciel's words. Although it was nice to hear. And he never thought Ciel held him such high regard.

"Forgive my brother, Inspector," Lukas said, eying Ciel incredulously. "I believe he is trying to be facetious." He looked back at Abberline. "Albeit, you do honor us with your dedication to your job."

Abberline said, "Thank you." He gestured to his right side. "This is Trent Banes, friend of Spencer Von Strauss, who is son of Erich Von Strauss, a wealthy philanthropist, entrepreneur and business coinsurer. Erich Von Strauss owns and operates one of the largest import/export of leather and other assorted goods in England, that also operates in many other countries around the world."

"Yes, the Von Strauss family is known to us," Ciel said. "Lukas attempted to ink a contract with one of their affiliates just last week to begin business relations, in hopes to introduce _Funtom Co_. into their market. We are hoping to enter into new franchises and not just limit ourselves to toys and related goods."

"I recommend you cease all association with them after what we have to say." Abberline gave a look to Trent and the lad nodded. "But let us cut to the chase of a more immediate matter. We need asylum here."

"Asylum?" Ciel and Lukas eyed the other with confusion.

"This must be a serious matter for such a thing to be asked of us," Lukas said.

"It is," Abberline said. "May we go someplace and talk? And there is a great deal to talk about."

"But of course," Ciel said, relinquishing to their urgency, gesturing them to follow. "Tanaka, please prepare some tea and bring it to the Sitting Room."

"Yes sir."

"Where is Sebastian?" Abberline asked, as they walked.

"He has taken ill. The maid is looking after him at the moment," Ciel said. "Just a touch of the flu."

**To be continued…**


	16. Abberline's Investigation

_**CHAPTER SIXTEEN - "ABBERLINE'S INVESTIGATION"**_

From start to finish, Abberline laid out their entire tale - from Abberline's beginnings in his secret investigation into the mysterious re-emergence of Lukas Phantomhive and up until the present. But before he did, he had asked to telephone his fiancée, to tell her to remain with her sister for the night, lying to her that he had some urgent police work to do that Sir Randall wished for his assistance on. He didn't like lying to her, but it was safer than the truth that he was deep in trouble and didn't want her involved.

They sat in the Sitting Room, a room of open concept with a large bay window overlooking the back grounds. Ciel sat in a chair with a centre viewpoint of the entire room and Lukas was at his side in another chair. Abberline and Trent Banes were both seated on a black leather couch.

Ciel held a cup of tea. He took a sip before speaking, then held it aloft on a crossed knee. "Ah," he said when everything was said. "So this group called the Illuminati wishes to kill you for your actions on conducting a secret investigation on Lukas's home-coming." He played naïve, not to reveal what he knew what others had told him about this cult. "And you say you abandoned your savior to save yourselves?"

"Please do not say it like that, we feel bad enough as it is," Abberline retorted.

"Spencer demanded we go to a safe house he knew," Trent explained. "But when we arrived, it was ablaze. We suspect the Illuminati knew about it and sent people to intercept us."

"But of course," Ciel said confidently. "From what you tell us, a large organization such as the Illuminati will have spies in every façade, every dark alleyway, every tiny crack within the London criminal underground - and they would _know_ unsavory people like assassins and killers of every sort. This is to safeguard their own best interests. You will never be safe from them now."

"You say that with an absolute mind, Ciel Phantomhive," Abberline said rather strongly.

"Because it is the truth, First-Inspector. You have engaged in activities contrary to your station and stuck your nose into the affairs of others. Now they wish to silence you to keep their secrets. Why is this not clear to you? Why did you not just merely ask my brother any questions you were concerned with?"

"I still do not remember everything that occurred during my seven years away," Lukas said, "but if I can, I will answer any outstanding questions you may have about the man who kidnapped me, Inspector."

"I do not know of what you are referring to," Trent interrupted, "but it can wait. We should go back and see if Spencer is all right. I fear something dreadful has happened to him."

"And how do you know this? Can you foresee the future?" Ciel said sarcastically. "I think not. If Spencer Von Strauss is as smart as his nefarious older sibling, Thann Von Strauss, and indeed his father, this I would not worry for your friend's well-being."

"May I learn if he is? Do you have a telephone? The Von Strauss manor has a telephone. He may have completed his clean-up at the Inspector's home and returned to the manor and is waiting for me to contact him on _our_ safety and whereabouts."

"By all means. Tanaka will escort you to the telephone."

Trent them left the Sitting Room and exited out into the hallway.

"Now Inspector," Ciel's voice was serious. "Tell us the truth, sparing your new acquaintance. We know you could not tell us everything in the presence of Trent Banes. You gave us vague details on your investigation into Lukas's re-emergence. What is it you truly suspect of him?"

Lukas leaned over slightly, staring into Abberline's eyes. Abberline let out a deep breath. "Putting aside recent events of the Illuminati…" Abberline said. "The psychopathic killer you said you were kidnapped by, Lukas, also now known as the child kidnapper of London, is suspected of brainwashing countless children, and not just here in London but in Paris, Germany and other countries. Through my various contacts, I was able to learn you were special to him and did jobs that took you around the world."

Lukas's eyes narrowed. "Jobs, Inspector? To what are you referring to?"

"Reports are vague in origin, but soon after the fire that killed your parents, all of a sudden, friends of Vincent Phantomhive began turning up dead in various places where they were known to associate. If you do not know the names, Lukas, I am sure you brother will: Dietrich Heimlich, Lady Carolyne Eastbrook, Lord Ryan Hardgrove and his brother Vulcan, and…your uncle, Chlaus Phantomhive."

Ciel's left eye stared wide with shock after the mention of each name, especially the last one. He was so taken aback that his fingers seemed to loose all strength and he dropped his tea cup. It was almost empty, but when it hit the hardwood floor and smashed, some spilled out, saturating the area at his feet. Ciel then looked at Abberline, he wanted to say something, his mouth opening, but no words came out.

"By your reaction, Ciel, I believe you do remember them," Abberline said.

Lukas shook his head. He answered indifferently. "But I do not, and I have no recollection of my uncle, nor am I familiar with any of those people." He turned to Ciel. "Brother, who are they?"

"I suspect they worked together in their own secret group with a hidden agenda, am I not right, Ciel?"

Ciel composed himself. He cleared his throat. "You are a credit to your profession, First-Inspector. A man in the light, driven by truth and justice. But you are mistaken in the facts. They were merely acquaintances to our father. While I am saddened to now learn of their deaths, and that of our uncle, I am not surprised that the man or men who killed our parents would not also attack his friends and the rest of our family. Who ever is behind this plot against our family attempted to wipe us out with forthright malice."

"There is something else I wish to know. Why did you not mention a fraternal twin brother before? And why are there no birth records of Lukas Phantomhive in the city records? I suspect something afoot."

"You ask much, Inspector, but offer nothing in return," Ciel said. "And there is no conspiracy afoot. I simply did not mention him because he was believed dead, like the rest of my family. The pain was great."

"There are no death records either. You told the press that Lukas was kidnapped, but now you say he was believed dead. There is also rumor that you had surgery to your face, Lukas, to eliminate an imperfection of some kind, but it is not clear the reason or cause. Fraternal twins do not look alike, but you two look almost identical. And where did you get that scar down your eye?"

"I do not like the accusatory tone of your voice, Inspector," Ciel said strongly. "You are reaching for things in the dark that aren't there. And whoever murdered our parents and their friends will be punished!"

"Your brand of justice, Ciel? I warn you, Scotland Yard does not look kindly on vigilante justice. Allow me to also reveal something else I suspect. I suspect your parents were much more than they appeared to be in the public eye. That they were 'police' in their own rite, protecting the Crown from threats, eliminating trouble before it ignited further. Nonetheless, they were out-smarted by a clever enemy that caught them off-guard and killed them. You, yourself, have admitted that you do the Queen's work as her loyal guard-dog, perhaps taking on your parent's mantle, despite only thirteen. Notwithstanding, what you do is still unclear. And to return to another subject, your elder butler, two and half years prior, admitted to the police, that just before the old mansion burned down, that he heard the sounds of children running amok inside. Could these same children have started the fire, under the brainwashed influence of the child kidnapper of London?"

Abberline appeared to focus his gaze upon Lukas.

Lukas gave Abberline a hardened stare. "You have a vivid imagination, First-Inspector, but I suspect it is just that, fabrication. You have been reading too many detective novels."

Abberline then looked at Ciel. Ciel scowled at him. "Albeit, but the look on your brother's face tells me much."

"You are a clever and resourceful man, Inspector," Ciel said straightly. "Perhaps too clever."

"But there is more. I also suspect the child kidnapper of London is a member of the Illuminati and _this_ is the reason they wish to silence me, to save him from prosecution. Indeed, I have gotten too close to the truth. But I would not even be aware of them if it was not for Spencer Von Strauss, who told me about the Illuminati and their dealings. After this, then certain missing pieces to the overall puzzle began to fit."

Ciel and Lukas shared a look, Lukas nodded. Ciel then looked back at Abberline. "We do not know if a certain _person_ is a member of this secret cult or another group of individuals, or if he is indeed working of his own accord. Information is scarce at this point from what we have been able to gather."

"Who is this person who are referring to? If you are keeping valuable information that could crack open this case and help return dozens of kidnapped children, I swear, I will not stop to learn it!"

"We believe this person may be _associated_ with the child kidnapper of London or may know people with information about the individual, but he can not be found to be questioned."

"I ask again - who is this person you speak of? Is it Bryon Kelvin, the recluse philanthropist? His name has crossed my investigations, along with his nephew, Mathu. Mathu Kelvin owned and operated several underground gambling dens, that Thann Von Strauss, a criminal in his own rite, has just recently taken over. And I suspect fowl play on the hands of Thann Von Strauss in regards to Mathu Kelvin, who has not been seen in months, along with certain other individuals he was known to associate with. Notwithstanding, it is believed Bryon Kelvin died years ago of a staff infection from a surgical procedure and could not possibly have any connection to the most recent child kidnappings…"

At this point, Trent Banes returned. "The butler at the Von Strauss manor isn't responding to the telephone. He is usually very prompt. I let it ring twenty or so times."

"Shall we discuss more on this matter later, Inspector?" Ciel suggested.

"Yes, Ciel. I am looking forward to it," Abberline said.

"And if deemed necessary, you shall have all the information called for. _If _deemed necessary. There are things in this world no _other_ man need be privy to, especially an Inspector of Scotland Yard."

Abberline eyed Ciel with a look of contempt, but said nothing.

"I must go to the Von Strauss manor," Trent said urgently. "I _must_ learn what has transpired since our departure. I _must_ learn what has happened with Spencer."

"Then you shall go alone," Ciel said. "We have our own pressing issue. Our butler, Sebastian, has fallen gravely ill. A doctor has been called, but it may be some time before he attends."

"You only said he had touch of the flu, not gravely ill?" Abberline said.

"I am sorry for your butler," Trent said. "But my friend is equally important. I must find out what has happened to him. It is urgent I do so immediately."

Trent raced from the Sitting Room and back out to the main vestibule. Abberline chased after him, telling him to wait, as they were both hunted men at the moment. Ciel and Lukas followed. And all ventured out the front entrance doorway to watch Trent Banes hop into the "roadstir", putting on a pair of goggles.

But the moment he ignited the engine, it entire vehicle exploded in a blinding flash of light!

Abberline immediately pushed the boys to the ground and smothered them under his own body as a shower of debris fell. Large pieces slammed to the ground, other smaller pieces landed near by…and even body parts. But they were lucky they were far away from the blast to not suffer harm. When looked at, there was large black smoldering mark in the front courtyard with where the "roadstir" once sat.

Abberline then saw a white, glowing individual in the distance standing on the winding road leading to the mansion. He was dressed all in white, or that's what it appeared, but there was something about him that made him look more like an angelic being than anything else. He was pale skinned with white hair, frazzled in a haphazard manner. Something also coursed around him, and Abberline could swear he heard the buzzing, sizzling sound of electricity.

Both Ciel and Lukas also gazed upon this mysterious white dressed man, and they gasped in shock.

"Hello boys," Mathu Kelvin said, "I'm back! I have come for Sebastian Michaelis! Give him to be _now_!"

**To be continued…**


	17. The Better Part Of Valor

_**CHAPTER 17 - "THE BETTER PART OF VALOR"**_

Ciel pushed away from Abberline.

While he did appreciated the inspector's self-sacrifice in protecting them during the explosion, he did not want to be coddled and treated like some helpless child.

Ever since his parents had died, he had to be self-sufficient and he refused to let anyone take that independence away from him. And it was ironic that he would insist on that with Sebastian incapacitated, and that Lukas's preaching of being independent and self-sufficient - or in the very least not relying so on Sebastian and the servants so much - at this very moment, would finally so hold true.

He would do just that.

Mathu Kelvin was a powerful enemy.

Pulled down into the depths of Hell by the Eye of God summoned by Sebastian during their last and thought to be final encounter, Ciel did not know how Mathu Kelvin had returned from an almost certain fate of eternal torture, pain and suffering by Lucifer. But here he was, standing and sizzling with electricity on the front courtyard, demanding Sebastian's presence.

It was regretful that Trent Banes was dead. He and Spencer Von Strauss had saved Abberline from the Illuminati, but no one could have expected Mathu Kelvin's return. He had murdered Trent Banes obviously to prove a point - that he was still as powerful as he was when he fought Sebastian months prior. Filled with the awesome power of not only his own Fallen Reaper abilities, but also that of his beloved wife Savannah, whom he sacrificed and drained of power to become even stronger.

It took the cunning by Sebastian to beat him.

But Sebastian wasn't here now.

Ciel stood on his feet, straight and tall, and arrogantly proud. "I'm afraid Sebastian is dealing with another issue at the moment," he said. "You will have to come back later to get your revenge."

"Don't antagonize him, brother," Lukas said, standing up. Abberline did also. "Sebastian isn't here to help us this time," he said quietly.

"Who or _what_ is that?" Abberline said, instinctively stepping in front of them, as if to shield them again.

"_That_, my dear man," another voice said, "is a very dangerous man, indeed. That is a Fallen Reaper," stating it outright, without deception. All three turned to look at Salem, or the Undertaker, as Abberline knew him. Next to him stood Grell Sutcliffe, dressed all in his blood red attire and black Reaper glasses, and the translucent, ghostly form of Renfrew Phantomhive. Salem put up a hand to Abberline, knowing what he was about to ask, "All will be explained at an opportune time, Inspector. For the moment, just accept us here."

Abberline nodded, looking at each of the new-comers in turn, especially at _the ghost_ of Renfrew.

"You'll be happy to know, Inspector, that I am one of the 'good guys'," Renfrew said smiling. "Not all ghosts are bad or malicious. Most of us are quite tame and civilized."

"Glad to know that," Abberline said plainly.

"Renfrew Phantomhive. Third cousin once removed."

"_Phantomhive_?"

Abberline snapped a look at Ciel. "Yes Inspector, he is a relative of ours. But as for being one of 'good guys', that is still up for debate after what he has done recently."

"If I could wake him, I would," Renfrew protested. "The _cycle_ must take its course, it has no other option. If I awaken him now, he will awaken confused and disorientated, and may suffer from amnesia."

"Then let him sleep and awaken in due course. We will handle Mathu Kelvin until then."

"Mathu Kelvin?" Abberline voice elevated with shock and surprise. "Who…_him_?" He pointed at the electrified individual, now approaching them, levitating above the ground.

"Ah, Inspector Abberline of Scotland Yard," Mathu Kelvin said, his arms spread wide. He gently touched down and walked the rest of the way to them, his electrified form softening, as if not to accidentally shock or burn them, like sudden sun flares. "The man who vowed to take me down due to my criminal affixations and associations with gambling dens. Your efforts mean nothing to me now. I have a new purpose in life, all thanks to an misfortunate happenstance some two years prior." He gave a sideways glance to Ciel. "But I wager the boy has not let you into his little secret yet…"

Abberline looked at Ciel. "What secret, Ciel? I don't understand what's going on here, or who these people are, and how on earth Mathu Kelvin got in such a…if you can call it such…a _supernatural state_!"

"Shall _I_ begin, or do you wish to tell the Inspector _everything_?" Mathu Kelvin said. "I _have_ been privy to his investigation for some time into Lukas Phantomhive, and now the Illuminati, but is he aware of the Inner Circle, or even the truth behind your wonderful butler and how he came to be at your side?"

"_Enough_!" Lukas shouted, spreading his arms eagle, as if to hold back everyone concerned, preventing an argument. He then gazed with dagger-eyes at Abberline. "Do you wish to know the truth about everything, Inspector? Very well, then I shall tell you. But you will not like what I have to say."

Ciel shook his head, but Lukas ignored him.

Lukas told Abberline everything from beginning to the present.

To their parents' opting for Lukas to have surgery for his face to beautify him; to Lukas being kidnapped and told he died on the operating table at the hands of a corrupt doctor, and to Bryon Kelvin _being_ the child kidnapper of London. To Lukas's brainwashing and his seven year tenor in doing Bryon Kelvin's will; to burning down his family home with other brainwashed children; and to a group of sinister men called the _Inner Circle _who planed to used Ciel in a sacrificial ceremony, to murder him, but dying at the hands of a demon whom they had summoned to learn the secrets of the ages. To being re-united with Ciel; to fighting a trio of Fallen Reapers possessing Mathu Kelvin, a gypsy woman named Savannah and the serial killers Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt, who were bent on retrieving 'stored' memories inside Lukas's mind to restore their original bodies summarily taken from them by a higher power called the _Reaperdem_; to Sebastian battling them on the front courtyard and defeating them in a grueling fight; and finally to Mathu Kelvin being dragged to Hell for his transgressions. And most recently to Renfrew Phantomhive.

Mathu Kelvin stood with his hands on hips. "Intriguing, not even I knew all that," he said.

Abberline stood stunned, and yet, the expression on his face was that disbelief. "That is some story, but it all sounds fantastic to me, like something some fantasy novel writer would cook up." Abberline then looked at everyone that stood around him… "On the other hand, maybe not."

"Writers these days don't have the imagination to 'cook up' stuff like this," Mathu Kelvin said.

"Have you ever read books by Jules Verne?" Abberline said. He looked at Mathu Kelvin with a keen eye, closely examining him from head to toe. His complete electrified form. "Probably not. You don't look like a man who _enjoyed_ to read."

"Is that some crack about my education, Inspector? I have you know, I went to one of the finest schools in England. And yes, I did read a few of Jules Verne's books. _Mysterious Island, 20,000 Leagues Under The Sea, Around The World In 80 Days_ - quite fantastic, indeed. And to think humanity would _ever_ be able to achieve any of those feats in his books is, of its self, laughable. Humanity doesn't have the mental will-how to achieve anything outside of their realm of arrogant self-absorption."

"And you engaging in criminal activity while having a well-rounded education is testament to that, I will agree, Kelvin," Abberline said. "Sometimes people can be too smart for their own good and willfully act out unlawful fancies thinking they won't get caught. But humans can achieve anything if willfully achievable. Spencer Von Strauss was giving me evidence that would have convicted you, but we may never know if he is alive or dead now, and you murdered his friend Trent Banes just now, who was on his way back - "

"Trival stuff." Mathu Kelvin waved it off. "My criminal activity and what you think of me is of no concern to me anymore." He eyed Ciel. "You have still not told me where Sebastian Michaelis is!"

Lukas opened his mouth to say something, but Ciel snapped a hand up to silence him from revealing anything _prudent_ more. "Like I said, he has another pressing issue at the moment. You will have to wait."

"What is more pressing than _me_?" Mathu Kelvin then tilted his head slightly and a small smirk broached his face. "Are you telling me Sebastian isn't here? Does that mean you are defenseless?"

"I wouldn't say that," Ciel grinned confidently. "You are standing face-to-face with two powerful Reapers."

Mathu Kelvin quickly set his eyes on both the Undertaker, whom he had never met, and Grell Sutcliffe, whom he had. Grell was the very same Reaper Ironstadt had batted easily into a lush field beyond, when he tried to attack the large, grotesque monster, after Ironstadt had devoured Sebastian's body. He lasted perhaps two seconds against Ironstradt. The other one, the Undertaker, looked just as unthreatening.

"Um," Grell voiced nervously, scratching a cheek with a sharp, long fingernail. "I haven't forgotten what his monster did to me, so I am none to thrilled to take _him_ on."

"As you should," Kelvin said confidently. "I'd fry you to ashes." He then looked to the Undertaker. "You?"

The Undertaker chuckled. "While I fear no Fallen Reaper, I am a book keeper and not much of a fighter."

"Cowards."

"Correction," the Undertaker said. "How better to survive a battle than to learn from past errors. I did watch you fight against Sebastian Michaelis notwithstanding from a safe location, and it was indeed a very good battle. But now that you are _one of them_, a demon, we Reapers can not get involved in human affairs, for which _now_ this clearly is. You must take up your grievances with Sebastian Michaelis when he awakens from his induced slumber."

Ciel snapped an angry look at Salem. "Damn you, Reaper! Why did you tell him that!"

"Sebastian is sleeping?" Mathu Kelvin laughed. "Demons need rest every one thousand years or so, but what an inopportune time to have a nap."

"I put him to sleep," Renfrew Phantomhive said, finally speaking up. "I did it to protect Lukas. To protect a secret once-upon-a-time sealed inside his mind. It can only be released by a pass-phrase."

"And this pass-phrase _is_?"

Renfrew shook his head. "You will have to kill me." And he laughed.

Mathu Kelvin rolled his eyes. "The irony isn't lost on me, you annoying little ghost," he said. "But I do have the power to dwell inside Lukas Phantomhive's mind and take the secret."

Renfrew frowned. "That I will _not_ allow!"

"And how will you stop me?"

"Despite the reluctance of these Reapers to battle you, my cousins are not defenseless." Renfrew looked at both Ciel and Lukas. "Cousins, for my transgressions earlier, I will try to hold him off as long as possible. Hopefully Sebastian will awaken soon. You must flee."

"No Renfrew!" Lukas protested, having an inkling of what Renfrew was about to do. "Don't do it!"

"My opportunity to redeem myself in in the eyes of God is lost. There is no other option. Do not forget me." Renfrew stepped forward. "Mathu Kelvin," he said strongly. "I may be only a ghost, but I _can_ hurt you."

And with a flying lunge, Renfrew launched himself _into_ Mathu Kelvin's body.

Mathu Kelvin looked taken aback by the sudden invasion into his body, patting himself down from chest to pelvis where Renfrew Phantomhive had entered him.

Then his right arm began to move involuntarily, and Mathu Kelvin punched himself in the face. He recoiled, but wasn't given time to recover when a second punch was delivered to his face from his other arm with a hard closed fist. His electrified essence kaleidoscoped from a soft white to a light blue hue, Renfrew's ghostly color, as Renfrew and Mathu began to have an internal conflict inside Mathu Kelvin's body.

"Quick!" Ciel said, waving everyone back to the mansion entrance. "That battle will not last long."

They all filed back into the mansion, into the main hallway vestibule, with Lukas in tow, looking back with heartfelt sorrow at what Renfrew had just done for them.

"Mathu Kelvin will destroy the mansion to find us when he overcomes Renfrew," Lukas said, looking at the company. "But even hiding in here will not help us. We must find an alterative habitat to hide."

"The basement," Ciel said. "Come, there is a secret tunnel beneath the mansion that will lead us to safety."

* * *

After summoning the servants to bring Sebastian, Finny and Bard carried Sebastian's tall, lanky frame between them, down a flight of steps to the basement with Mey-Rin and Tanaka in tow. And they all - Ciel, Lukas, Abberline, Grell and Salem in front - made their way through the labyrinth of junk Ciel had collected over the years; Ciel leading them to a non-descriptive, multi-tier, wooden storage shelving unit up against a wall, or what appeared to be a portion of the concentrate foundation of the mansion.

The items piled on the unit appeared unimportant to Ciel despite being stored in such a delicate manner, as he shoved each of them off their respected tier with carelessness, each item smashing to the floor. "I really must have this place cleaned out one day, there is too much junk here," he said.

Lukas would have laughed if not for the situation. He agreed on cleaning up wholeheartedly. And if they survived this latest threat against the Phantomhive household, he will insist on it being done post-haste with everybody helping, including his hoarder of a brother. Maybe have a yard sale, he thought.

With Salem and Grell, Ciel pulled the heavy shelving unit away from the wall. Ciel stared at the wall momentarily, looking around. "Now, where was that switch?" Feeling the wall on the right side, his hand suddenly depressed a hidden switch, and the wall opened a crack. "Help me push the entrance open."

Grell, Salem and Abberline did so, suddenly leaving Ciel to stand back. They shouldered the heavy door open all the way to reveal an underground, stone tunnel, large enough for a full grown adult to walk upright through. But it was pitch black. On the wall, as far as Lukas could see, was one torch. Ciel handed Abberline a box of matches and he struck one on the back of the box and lighted the torch. It brought some light, but the tunnel was deeper than the light could touch thoroughly.

"When did you have the time to build this?" Lukas asked. "And where does it lead?"

"Over the years, Sebastian and I have done many things you have not been privy to. Which I believe you should be now. But I do say, this is the first time it will be used. It was built in case my enemies ever overwhelmed the mansion - and I have many. Well, _our_ parents did. This is a way for me to escape. It leads to the family grave plot, to the above walk-in crypt dedicated to our parents."

"Ah, you mean the square one, overlooking the entire plot grounds."

"Yes."

"I have been inside several times, but I have never seen any _secret_ trapdoor leading to an underground tunnel, there is no indication of such. All that resides inside is a few religious, iconic symbols and scriptures on the wall. But basically it is an 'empty' crypt, as our parent's bodies burned in the fire that took the old mansion." Lukas then paused for a moment and gasped, as if realizing a grave error he had just made. "Forgive me for not realizing it before, brother."

"What?" Abberline said, looking from boy to boy.

"Symbolism, my dear inspector," Lukas said. "An empty crypt for an empty house. Meaning, for all those years he was alone, despite Sebastian being with him, Ciel dedicated the crypt to our parents to honor their memories, but he also gave it an emptiness because of the emptiness he felt inside his heart without them."

Abberline looked at Ciel as if to confirm Lukas's words, but Ciel merely gazed past him at Lukas with a hardened stare. But Ciel didn't deny it.

Salem chuckled. "You never cease to amazing me, my lord. You are like an onion with many layers. Every time we meet, I get to enjoy the pleasure of pealing off one layer at a time. You are a little boy who truly misses his parents, but whom keeps up a strong front to hide the pain."

"Are you quite finished?" Ciel said bothered. "Or do you wish to escape a madman who, if he has the chance, can murder us in a whim?"

Although a rhetorical question, Finny said, "I think we should flee, Master."

And Abberline put in his thoughts, "To escape is the better part of valor to fight again another day."

The others were quiet, but the sentiment was shared by all.

They entered the tunnel.

**To be continued...**


	18. Master Decco

_**AUTHOR'S NOTE: READER DISCRETION ADVISED FOR MATURE CONTENT.**_

* * *

_**CHAPTER 18 - "MASTER DECCO"**_

Wilhelm Lazarus and his son strode down a long lighted corridor and then down a flight of circular stairs to what Decco was now calling his lair. It was in the basement of the Von Strauss Manor. Spencer Von Strauss still held possession of _his_ manor legally, now that both his brother and father were dead, but it was more or less belonged to Decco now, because Decco owned Spencer. Spencer didn't have a problem with that, seeing that Decco had issued him a new lease on life, so he willfully gave everything he had to his Master.

But Lazarus was slightly more reserve. Decco had given him back his son, but it had been at a high cost. Now both Johnny and he were servants to this demon. But when Decco had made the offer to resurrect his son with no ill-effects of what Sebastian Michaelis had done to Johnny during that fateful evening with the Inner Circle, he jumped at the chance when the Dead Sea scrolls failed to work. Lazarus had said whatever the cost, and the cost was his very life.

But he wasn't a blind-follower. He had his own compunctions and facilities about him, but now he was at the mercy of a powerful demon who could end his life with a snap of a finger if he didn't absolutely obey him. And to keep his son alive, he was willing to obey Decco. Johnny seemed indifferent to the idea of obedience to Decco and took it in stride. Lazarus was a little concerned about this, however, but he let it momentarily pass. Johnny still smiled like Lazarus remembered him had and the boy still looked at him with kind, happy eyes. He was very glad to be alive. And very happy to once again be with his father.

As was Lazarus was have Johnny back.

Lazarus vowed Sebastian Michaelis would pay for murdering his son.

He wished he could locate Bryon Kelvin, the man who he had just recently learned was the child kidnapper of London, and whom had stolen his son away all those years ago. Kelvin was the catalyst in all this, and he wagered was also behind the kidnapping of Lukas Phantomhive as well for which Thann had been investigating as envoy for the Illuminati when red flags began to crop up during an investigation by a too curious Scotland Yard inspector, that Spencer had been feeding information to. Well, that stopped. And Thann was now dead, killed by Spencer. And so was Erich Von Strauss, Spencer's father, who originally issued the investigation into Inspector Frederick Abberline. And Abberline was also missing, escaping into the night with one of Spencer's friends to only God knows where.

Decco could locate Kelvin with his powers. Bryon Kelvin seemed aloof and masked with a power even Decco was powerless against - although the demon would never admit that. But Lazarus could read the expression on the demon's face whenever the location of Bryon Kelvin entered a conversion. The only reason, Lazarus thought, was that Bryon Kelvin may also be protected by his very own demon, or shielded by a magic that could even blind a demon's sight.

The basement to the Von Strauss Manor had become a dark and sinister place filled with amass of bodily tissue, smeared with a red substance that Lazarus could only identify as blood, with captured souls that Decco brought with him from the demon world, their moans echoing his lair. Decco sat on a large, back seated throne of human bones, intricately designed with a horrific feel. But he didn't sit on it like a monarch, he preferred to lounge in it sideways with his feet spread over one of the arms of the throne. He was a laid-back demon with a great deal of confidence and arrogance. But this didn't bother Lazarus at all.

Once he and Johnny approached within a few meters of the throne, then knelt down on one knee, their heads lowered. "My Lord Decco, we bring serious news. Your contacts in the underworld have told us a very powerful new demon has escaped into the human world. It is rumored he is on a mission for Lucifer."

Decco waved him silent. "I know this, Lazarus. My allies have informed me of such as well. I have never met this _new_ demon, but _you_ may know his name: Mathu Kelvin."

Lazarus jerked his head up with wide-eyed shock. "Mathu Kelvin? Nephew of Bryon Kelvin?"

"The same, I am told. But he is a Fallen Reaper now with great powers. Lesser than mine, however."

"Fallen…_Reaper_? Like a Fallen Angel?"

"Much so, but unlike Fallen Angels, Fallen Reapers keep their powers even after their physical bodies are taken away from them for crimes against their brethren in the _Reaperdem_, a place between the living and dead, and the now associative, idealistic method of transporting souls to the underworld. Mathu Kelvin was possessed, along with others, by a Fallen Reaper after Sebastian Michaelis murdered them. He was a member of the Inner Circle and had attended the sacrifice in the amphitheatre, the place where Johnny was so brutally slaughtered, and the place where Ciel Phantomhive and Sebastian Michaelis struck an accord. Their covenant that bounds them so tightly, now as master and butler. And I am assuming Ciel Phantomhive ordered Sebastian Michaelis to murder everyone in the amphitheatre in revenge."

Lazarus scowled at this and he looked at his son, who knelt at his side. Johnny gave him a smile. "Water under the bridge now, father; I am alive now," he said with such unwarranted forgiveness. Despite the covenant branded into his forehead covered by his angelic blond hair, he seemed as innocent and as caring as Lazarus remembered, knowing full-well everything that now was. "He will be punished soon."

Lazarus nodded. _Yes son, Sebastian Michaelis will be punished ,and soon._ He then looked back at Decco, who was gazing at him with an intriguing look. "Master, is something…_wrong_?"

Decco shook his head. "I find your relationship with your son beguiling," he said. "You are - or were - the leader to one of the largest mendacious organizations on the planet, and yet, you have such devotion for your family. It is a contrast in a way. You are nothing like the late Erich Von Strauss."

"He took his family for granted. And I did not order him to sacrifice his daughter. That was his idea. He felt sacrificing pure devoted blood and with a sexual act would commit a stronger bond for a demon to be summoned. If there is one thing I find utterly detestable and unworthy of a man, it is to abuse his own family."

"And yet you ignored your own wife in the solemn belief that you could resurrect your son with the scrolls you found near Jordan. Then you murdered the archaeologist so no one else would learn of the find. In a fashion, you are just as detestable."

"Not to my child!" Lazarus protested loudly. Then he looked downcast. "Forgive my elevated tone, Master." Lazarus hated calling Decco "Master", but he had no choice any longer.

Decco sat up straight, then stepped from his throne. He placed a hand on Lazarus's shoulder. "I once had family and they were taken away from me, so I sealed away the man who did it. I know how you feel. But life is pain and pain gives strength. Use that pent up anger against your enemies, you will soon get your revenge on Sebastian Michaelis and Ciel Phantomhive for his transgressions against you. And so will I."

"Thank you, Master."

Decco then stood up straight, and gestured for Lazarus and Johnny to stand. "Now, where is young Spencer? I charged him with a task and gave him McDermott and Thibeau. Is he finished?"

"I am unsure, my lord," Lazarus said.

"Then let us check up on him together. I am eager to see what he has come up with."

* * *

The entire room was engaged in acts of debauchery when Decco and Lazarus entered Spencer's father's former bed chambers. It was a large room, the size of three normal bed chambers of standard size. Aside from Spencer and a person of his choosing together in bed, several more _men_ were engaged in acts in a group orgy spread throughout the room on the carpeted floor and furniture. Since his _coming out_, Spencer no longer shied away from his coitus teenage, sexual urges. He wholly embraced them.

No more the _good son,_ as his father had said to him in the Illuminati congregation audience hall.

Lazarus instinctively shielded his son's eyes, but Decco put closed fists on his hips in a look of intrigue. He gazed around the room. Spencer had good taste in men, but some of them were at least twice his age, and most had the bodies of Greek gods. Some of them more muscular than others. The boy had began inviting salacious individuals to the manor on a regular bases. Decco had no problem with that.

"Spencer!" Lazarus said repulsed, continuing to shield his son's eyes. But he could not block the sounds, the breathless moans and groins of the other men.

Spencer Von Strauss turned his head to the doorway, and instinctively pushed his partner off him to the floor, covering himself with a bed sheet. His face was flushed from the exertion of what he had been doing. His hair was also matted to his head and sweat dripped down his face. Each of the other men then ceased their actions when Decco stepped further into the room.

"Lazarus, the boy is only doing what comes natural," he said. "Albeit an inopportune time to do so. I gave you a task to do, Spencer. Have you done it?"

Spencer cleared his throat, sitting up on the bed. He planted his feet on the floor with the sheet wrapped around him. "McDermott and Thibeau are ready…"

"Are you saying you have not completed the task?" Decco again looked around the room, this time with contempt. "I wager you were distracted by _them_."

With a snap of a finger, each of the men, including Spencer's partner, disappeared into nothingness. Decco then eyed Spencer with an equal look of contempt. He snorted out angrily, but then succumbed to a moment of reflection to words a person from his past once said to him and that now came back to haunt him. _You are young and reckless, even as a demon, you have responsibilities…_ They were the words of his old Master and teacher. The master whom he often called _a foolish old man_. But at this moment, they held strength. What would Morning Star do when a demon defied him in such a manner?

Spencer dressed quickly into his black leather clothes, clothes that were at least one-size too small for him. But he enjoyed expositionism now. He had a thin body type. He looked like the atypical teenager who prided to keep himself in shape. A teenager often took pride in his greatest asset so he could court a mate as well, and Decco took this into consideration.

With a mere blink, Spencer's clothes were ripped off his body and he stood there completely naked in front of them. Instinctively, Spencer covered his genitals. But with antoerh snap of a finger, Decco punished him.

Spencer's faces folded in with an expression of utter shock as his "manhood" quickly shrunk smaller and smaller and then completely into his body, until nothing remained. Spencer felt frantically for his genitals in his nether regions, but they were no longer there. In fact, absolutely nothing was present. It was completely barren between his legs. Decco had just turned him into a eunuch.

"Oh my god, oh my god, _oh my god_! No, no, _no_! Master Decco, _please_… give me back my - "

"Now you will not be distracted," Decco said causally, but with authority. "I will return what you most favor once you have completed the task I given you. If you do not succeed, then I will take something else away. I will not tolerate failure."

Tears fell from Spencer's eyes and down his cheeks as he nodded quickly. "Yes, Master. Yes, yes, yes. I will do whatever you say!" His voice sounding more like a squeak as he cried for his loss.

* * *

Spencer still wiped tears from his eyes, now more conservatively dressed in a loose fitting grey shirt and dark trousers, as he lead the others into what was once the Dining Hall. A large, square room to say the least with a door at either end. One door that lead into an adjacent hallway and the other into the Sitting Room. It normally housed a long, black rectangular dining table with eight chairs, mostly for guests. When he had diner with his father and brother, they both sat at either end of the table while he was "the guest".

Spencer had it removed and chopped up for firewood along with the chairs, then he had the room converted into a ceremonial chamber of sorts. The only permanent structure was the brick fireplace in the far wall. What now stood centre in the room were two large stone alters. Laying top of each was McDermott and Thibeau chained and strapped down with shackles and leather binds. They had been here ever since they were brought back to the manor after their pleas to spare the lives at the Illuminati audience hall fell on deaf ears.

Spencer wanted to humiliate and degrade them by strapping them together on top of the other front to front completely naked, but he reconsidered that idea. That would be too perverted and rather disgusting judging by the body shape of these older men. From the Illuminati congregation main audience hall to here in the manor, they pleaded for their lives all the way, hoping where they would being spared after witnessing the brutal killing of Erich Von Strauss by Spencer with demonic efficiency. But they were wrong.

Nothing had been done to them yet, despite Decco offering a suggestion. Spencer had been placed in charge of implementing it, while Decco engaged in another activity, but Spencer had gotten _distracted_. Now he wished he hadn't and had completely the task his Master had given him _immediately_.

Now he felt like what he had done to his brother had come back to haunt him.

He had killed his brother to prove that he would be loyal to Decco, and after everything Thann had done to him over the years - taunt him, mock him, treat him as less than a brother and a person - he had no hesitation doing so. It was ironic, however, that despite feeling alone in his thinking that if he had ever revealed his liking of men to his family, he would be chastised and disowned. Oddly enough, even Thann had similar experiences and didn't tell anyone, and when Thann demanded to be 'serviced' for staying quiet about what he knew, Spencer complied to a point, and bit Thann's penis off at the base.

But in truth, what he had seen Thann do to his sister, turned him off women completely despite engaging in sexual acts with women in prior Illuminati ceremonies. But he knew the attraction just wasn't there and he was merely going through the motions.

Left to bleed to death in the special room their father had appointed to Decco, the pitch black painted circular stone room with the alter in the closed down prison, he believed Thann was there still, his body rotting away. He had no qualms and no regrets about killing Thann. Thann deserved it for raping and killing Krystal, their sister, during an Illuminati ceremony. It was a ceremony that was filled with futility - for no demon came to greet them even after her sacrifice. She had died for nothing!

But now that _his_ manhood was gone and an empty space left in its place, he vowed he would never disobey his Master's orders again.

"Spencer, _please_…let us go!" McDermott pleaded. "We're sorry for what happened to your sister, but we had nothing to do with it. We weren't even at the ceremony."

But Spencer didn't hear McDermott's plea.

"Yes, Spencer," Thibeau said with equal earnest. "On that day, I had informed your father I could not attend because I had an appointment with a representative from the _Funtom Cooperation_. Lukas Phantomhive came to see me to offer up a proposal. _Funtom Co_. wished to expand into clothing market my family runs."

Spencer stopped, gazed him with a hardened stare, momentarily setting aside his own problem of being a eunuch. "Lukas Phantomhive? He's only thirteen years old."

"His parents are dead, Spencer. He and his brother Ciel have to make it on their own. I was quite impressed with his proposal. He has his father's business savvy."

Spencer momentarily looked away in retrospective thought.

_That kid is my enemy_, he thought with such venom._ If it wasn't for him, I would not be a eunuch right now. Abberline's secret investigation would not have sprouted from the information I gave him about Mathu Kelvin, hoping _he_ would make the connection the Illuminati. He and the Inspector must die!_

He looked back at the men who had apparently not shied their eyes away from him even during his reverie. He composed himself. Once he completed this task for his Master, he would once again be whole. Hopefully.

"I have been appointed the task of your rebirth, gentlemen," Spencer said. "And I will not falter in it."

"Rebirth?" Thibeau said. "What does that mean?"

"It _means_, gentlemen," Decco said, "that you are more valuable to me alive. As I said when we first met, I am building an army and I need souls to be in that army."

"Are you…the _Devil_?" McDermott asked.

Decco laughed. "Hardly." He gestured to the two men. "The floor is yours, young Spencer. Impress me. You have the gift of alchemic reconstruction. If I like what I see, I will return what is yours."

Spencer nodded. "I will not fail you, Master."

Decco smiled sinister-like. "I hope not, for your sake."

The knowledge of what he had been charged to do flooded into his mind. The incantations and spells for alchemic reconstruction and everything he would need to conduct what his master wished from him easily formed in his thoughts. But the end result was left for him to decide.

He wanted to impress his master or he would never get his genitals back. He considered himself to have a vivid imagination and he planned to use it in a twisted way. He would transform these men into what he felt they deserved, the grotesqueness of their inner self-arrogance. He would use the hate and malice he felt towards them and towards the Illuminati for what happened to his sister to create an uber _being _of such immense strength and power that no man will be able to stop it.

He raised his arms into the air and started to recite spells in Latin, and a swirling, ghostly wind began to engulf the two men and the alters, and McDermott and Thibeau began to scream - as if knowing full-well the fate that was about to befall them.

**To be continued…**


	19. Ciel's Secret Revealed

_**CHAPTER 19 - "CIEL'S SECRET REVEALED"**_

With a torch in hand, Abberline walked just behind Ciel, lighting the way for him, as the entire company strolled through the long, stone carved tunnel, with Ciel leading the way.

Oddly enough, the walls were completely smooth like marble. So perfectly shaped.

Salem felt the wall and could feel dark energy within the stone. Sebastian had obviously used his powers to make this tunnel, and probably with ease. Ciel had probably directly him exactly where he wanted it begin and end. It wasn't a straight tunnel, it curved a few times almost like the body of a snake. And whether it was intentional or not, due to harder bedrock deposits in the ground, it was symbolic in its own rite like the snake in the Garden of Eden, and the tunnel itself iconic: traveling from the living to a place of death.

But only a Reaper would get the irony.

"This is an extravagant tunnel," Lukas said, "quite remarkable. I assume Sebastian made it?"

"He did," Ciel said, as Lukas hurried next to him. Lukas now walked side-by-side with Ciel. "I issued him an idea of what I wanted and he made it happen."

"After everything is over, you'll have some major explaining to do, Ciel and Lukas," Abberline said.

"I thought Lukas explained it all to you," Ciel said. "Or were you not listening?"

"I still don't believe it. It's too fantastic to believe."

"Then I suggest you get over your disbelief," Ciel said annoyed. "Things happen in this world that are a mystery to others but are easily explained by another. Now that you investigation into Lukas Phantomhive is next to over, what will you do with the information you have learned?"

"I don't know," Abberline said. "In solving the case, I could destroy many lives."

"Indeed. And not the proper one. We, my brother and I, are the victims. Let us handle it in our own way."

"I can't do that, Ciel. Many other children have disappeared. I owe it to the people of London to give at the very least the prudent information to the press, so they can hunt down Bryon Kelvin."

"If you do so, you will not only be destroying our parents reputation and the Phantomhive name, but you will also be casting suspicion of nefarious deeds by Her Majesty - that she had London citizens policing down criminals working separate from Scotland Yard. This will completely undermine the monarch rule and authority of the Crown. She will be ostracized. And if Sebastian's true origin is revealed - that he is a demon - need I explain the full extent of what _he_ might do to keep _himself_ secret?"

"You have a point, Ciel."

"Of course I do."

"And we wish to keep these things from the servants," Lukas said. He momentarily looked back behind Salem, to find Finny and Bard, who were carrying Sebastian having a difficult time of it, forever balancing his dead weight. Mey-Rin and Tanaka were behind them. "They do not know about Sebastian. You are the only _other_ human who is aware of all events we are involved in. Can we trust you to keep everything you have learned a secret, at least for a little while? You are a credit to your profession. We know you a trustworthy man, but we need this promise from you now, so we can have time to avenge our parents and take revenge on Bryon Kelvin for everything he has done to us."

"Revenge isn't the way to go about getting justice, Lukas," Abberline said. Then he sighed. "But I promise to keep your secret for now. After this is all over, however, all three of us will sit down and have a very long talk."

"Agreed, Inspector. And thank you."

When they reached the end of the tunnel, it reached several hundred meters, there was an iron rung ladder hammered into the stone wall that lead up into a trapdoor of sorts.

Lukas had never seen a trapdoor or anything else indicating a secret tunnel inside the crypt, so he assumed there had to be an "invisible" removable panel in the floor somewhere. Inside the crypt, the floor had lines running diagonal and vertical to act as tiny crevice lines for water run-through if needed, or structure maneuverability when the ground itself shifted to prevent foundation cracks. The crevices could also act as art design for the floor of the crypt and _could_ hide a trapdoor. _Brilliant_, he thought. _No wonder I had no inkling of a trapdoor. If I wasn't looking for it, I would never know it was there._

Lukas climbed up the ladder and tapped the trapdoor, and was shocked. "Ciel, this is stone. How can we push this out?"

"Let me give it a try," Abberline said.

Lukas climbed down, Abberline handed him the torch, and climbed up and attempted to shoulder the stone door out of its housing. But it weighted a ton. "It won't budge," the inspector said. "It's much too heavy."

"Yes," Ciel muttered thoughtfully to himself. "If Sebastian were awake, he could move it easily by means only he has. I failed to recall this fact. Like I said, we have never used this tunnel. I was unaware it would be much too heavy to move."

Lukas rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Now you recalls this _very important _detail?"

"I provided a manner of escape from Mathu Kelvin!" Ciel said argumentatively. "It is more than you did!"

"But now we are trapped in this tunnel. Renfrew sacrificed himself for nothing!"

"It is not my fault if that damn ghost ended his existence by a useless gesture of self-sacrifice!"

"Hold on, you two," Abberline said, still standing at the top of the ladder. "If this avenue of escape is cut off to us, then we must go back. This is no time to be arguing amongst ourselves."

"He is always contradicting me!" Ciel said. "Always beginning an argument because he thinks he is right!"

"I do not begin arguments!" Lukas rebuked loudly. "It's your pugnacious attitude that starts our heated discussions! And I am not right all the time. I just believe we can seek alternative solutions from your narrow way of seeing things."

"And what does that mean?"

Abberline sighed.

Tanaka stepped forward. "Forgive them, Inspector," he said, standing between Ciel and Lukas. "I'm afraid, they are always like this. They are constantly at each other's throats on almost every issue of importance."

"Sibling rivalry is an ugly thing," Abberline said. "I also have a brother, and we don't see eye-to-eye. The last time we saw each other, we had an awful argument and haven't spoken to each other since."

"It is clear what is happening. The young master has been alone since Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive died, and Ciel has had to remain strong. But when young Lukas returned, Ciel, who considered himself the sole Master of the household, now has to share it with his brother, and like all spoiled children, jealousy rears it's ugly head, and one brother wishes to remain on top."

Ciel gasped. "How dare you say that, Tanaka!"

"The truth is hard to swallow, young master, but the air must be cleared. And I am tired of you two bickering like animals for territory. I am an old man, and I do not wish to spend my remaining years listening to you two gripe over the smallest thing just because you disagree on the outcome. I almost wish the duel you two had did 'settle' things. It is horrible thing to say, but the truth must be told. The Inspector is correct, sibling rivalry is an ugly thing, and it can destroy entire families. And you two are the only one's left of the proud Phantomhive family line."

"Bravo, Tanaka," Lukas said lightly.

"You should not boast, Master Lukas. Despite your hardships, you are in the same boat. The weight of the family no longer falls directly on Ciel's shoulders any longer. You must also take hold of the reigns. Your skill in business affair is impressive, you have your father's savvy. But you continuously preach that your brother must learn independence and self-reliance, away from the help of the servants, but have you, in truth, done anything less since you returned that does not cater to anything other than a young boy privileged?"

Lukas gasped, but he didn't have time to respond before Tanaka continued.

Tanaka looked at both boys in turn. "We provide a service to you, young masters, and we do it, not out of servitude or forbid slavery, but because we enjoy what we do." He turned back to Lukas. "Your brother may treat us _badly_ sometimes, but you _both_ must come to terms with our place in the household, as well as your own role as master of the house. It is the way of things, Master Lukas. It is the way society is aligned and beckons to social standing. The Phantomhive _must_ keep the status quo."

Lukas looked downcast. "We are sorry, Tanaka. We did not realize our arguing was affecting you this much. I have tried to keep it to a minimum and walk away when my blood boils but…"

"You have a point, Tanaka," Ciel said. "You were my father's butler - _our father's butler_ - for many years. And respect is duly noted to you by the many decades of servitude you have provided the Phantomhive family, and hopefully for years to come."

"Young master, you sound like this is our last _hoo-ray_. I do not believe it is so. The Phantomhive's have always found a way to survive, even in the most adverse times. It is said adversary defines a man's character in his darkest hour. We are not defeated yet."

"But what do we do, Tanaka? This is when I would ask Sebastian for advise."

"Sebastian can not help us right now. So we must think for ourselves. And fight our own battle this time." Tanaka then leaned over and whispered into Ciel's ear. "I know who and what Sebastian is, I have know for a long time, and I have kept your secret. I know you had to do what you felt was best at the time. If I were in your shoes, I would perhaps have done the same. Your father and mother kept secrets the alike as well. Perhaps someday I will reveal them to you, you will be surprised. But now is not the time."

Ciel gasped, Tanaka winked at him. He quickly composed himself and nodded. "We are not defeated yet," Ciel said with new determination. "If we must fight Mathu Kelvin alone and above ground, then so be it."

"I agree. Now that we have that cleared up. How do we leave this place?"

Suddenly a very loud explosion was heard, and then the stone trapdoor was ripped from its housing and a bright, blinding light filled the tunnel.

Abberline was yanked up and through.

Then Mathu Kelvin peered down into the tunnel. "Don't make this anymore difficult than it needs to be," he said. "My time is limited. Your ghost was no match for me. I absorbed him like skin absorbs sunlight."

"Murderer!" Lukas shouted.

"I put him out of his misery. How could I kill some_thing_ that's already dead? Now, climb out of there."

They did. Finny pushed Sebastian by his legs while Bard pulled him up through the hole of the trapdoor and then laid him on the floor of the crypt. Or what used to be the crypt. Half of it had been obliterated by the very loud explosion heard, done by Mathu Kelvin. The crypt was now exposed to open air.

Despite Mathu Kelvin's destruction of more than half the symbolic crypt to his parents, there was a plaque on one wall he had put up to continue to remind him to never give up no matter the adversity. He momentarily glanced at it, as the others were still filing into the crypt. And it infused him with an even stronger determination to beat this Fallen Reaper.

It was an excerpt from one of his favorite poems:

_"We are not now that strength which in the old days_

_Moved earth and Heaven; that which we are, we are_

_One equal-temper of heroic hearts,_

_Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will_

_To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."_

**_Lord Alfred Tennyson (1842) "Ulysses"_**

When each of them were through, dusk began to broach the grave plot. The sun began to sink over the horizon in the west. And it gave rise to an eerie atmosphere that silhouetted the shadows of other gravestones and statuesques of dead family member plots.

Mathu Kelvin causally lifted a hand and levitated Sebastian into the air and out into the open, where he gently laid him in the dirt near a cross gravestone. He examined him closely.

"Wake him, _now_!"

"You know we can't do that," Ciel said, his hands on his hips in defiant stature. "You absorbed the only being that could have."

Sebastian's eyes began to flicker, as he dreamt.

"What in the hell could a demon possibly dream about? I wish to see," Mathu Kelvin said.

He knelt down on one knee and then put a hand on Sebastian's forehead. With his Fallen Reaper powers, he had the ability to see into the a human's subconsciousness. The instant he touched Sebastian, he was whisked away into an inner darkness generated by Sebastian's mind…

**To be continued...**


	20. Sunday, September 2, 1666

_**CHAPTER 20 - "SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 1666"**_

The city was quiet on this Sunday night just after the midnight hour as most of its inhabitants were sleeping in the city of London.

But social cogs still inhabited the local pubs and inns and there were prostitutes walking the lined streets, despite a devastating prior year dealing with the outbreak of the bubonic plaque. Last year, 1665, had been known as the "Plaque Year" where a great deal of people had died and were still dying by an illness brought on by filthy conditions in London streets and other diseases carried by rodents and other animals.

With his powers, Damascus could instantly cure the entire city with a whisk of a hand and completely eliminate all plague everywhere, but it was not his place to do so. And Morning Star would certainly not be pleased if he did so. He was a demon, and _human_ decrepitation brought on this plaque. It was their doing, their fault - so let them deal with the consequences. And besides, it provided more souls for Morning Star, and there were more than enough sinners in this city to fill a thousand large caldrons for him to ingest, scorn, and watch suffer for all eternality.

But not all Londoners were bad, they only made bad choices based on the available options they were given. People had to live, but by doing what they wished - this is how the plague started. Narrow alleyways were garbage dumps and when it rained, streets filled with filth, and washed into the River Themes, polluting drinking water. Rats, feral cats and dogs, even the homeless, filled the streets, redistributing diseases to others, carrying flees that jumped onto people, or airborne contaminates, infecting them.

And then were was the aristocracy who shunned the local population and lived in luxury in the country beyond the slum suburbs, caring nothing for city dwellers, believing them were beneath them. The wealthy wished to live at a convenient distance from the traffic-clogged city. And then there was constant introduction of immigrants, who had come to London for a better life, but were then shunned themselves.

And in a way, Damascus felt sorry for them. Not only for their continuous suffering, but for their continuous civil wars, and how, no matter the outcome, humans never learned. With every generation, it seemed they were doomed to repeat the same mistakes without any chance at reprieve. And these people were the descendants, immigrants who had spread out, of his once proud Roman heritage.

But he was not here to place judgment on them. He was in the city on another matter and an issue of great importance. He was on a mission for Morning Star himself.

He watched as a tall man in dark clothes and a hooded cloak entered a local bakery across the alleyway on Pudding Lane Damascus stood in. He hid in the shadows so not to be seen, but he could cloak himself invisible if he wished using his powers. But if he did so, then _others_ of his kind would notice him who were also in the human world, sensing his energy, blowing his cover, and he wished to remain hidden _naturally_.

The bakery belonged to a Mr. Thomas Farriner, a very renown baker. He was a smaller man from the average height citizen with a stoutish body and had white hair. He was in his mid-fifties.

Damascus didn't know Farriner personally, only be reputation. And people he spoke to spoke of him highly and they claimed he was the best baker in all of London, everyone buying their sweets and cakes from him. He was also a very highly respected philanthropist in his own rite and often gave to charities to help the homeless and local orphanages. But Damascus could sense a sadness engulfed around his bakery, for Ferrier had no family to speak of. He lived alone and baked alone, employing no one. Baking was his entire life. And it was rumored that he baked with "love", so everything he made was extra delicious.

However, it was human food - a taste Damascus had lost a longingly for a long time ago. Demons didn't need food to survive, they devoured souls for nourishment. Although they could eat human food if wished. And this is what brought Damascus here this night, not for the food but for one of Farriner's favorite customers. An individual Damascus had been stalking for a very long time even before this mission.

_Decco. And he brought two other demons with him._

But Damascus couldn't see who they were as their faces were obscured by cloaked hoods. Decco was the only one Damascus recognized, with his hood down and the demon's face and black hair showing. He had been following Decco, and Decco had been coming to Farriner's bakery once a month for a while to pick up a large order of sweets and cakes, candy, and other assorted chocolate goodies. Decco was notorious for having a sweet tooth.

Damascus also wanted to ask Decco a question of his own, and in sense, it did relate to Morning Star's mission. To the many "disruptions" Decco and his allies were causing both in the demon world and human world, throughout it all, Master Belial had gone missing, and no one knew where he had disappeared to. The last time Damascus had seen his master was only a month after the massacre at Roanoke in 1590. Since then, no one had seen Belial since Morning Star had sent him to once again _tame_ Decco.

Had Decco done something to Master Belial to cause his disappearance?

Damascus most assuredly thought so, but he had very few clues to work with. Decco had refused to heed to any summons by Morning Star which went towards a sure fire feeling of guilt by Damascus, and it made him a rogue demon. And was why Damascus was here, albeit in secret.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was to walk right up to Decco and demand answers from him, creating an unwarranted scene. For one, Decco would not heed to threats, and second, Master Belial was correct, Damascus was not powerful enough to defeat Decco despite all his training and skills at the present time, especially when Decco had brought two other demons with him.

When the trio entered the bakery, that was still open this late at night, Damascus crept across the street and peaked through the foggy, multi-framed glass window of the shop. He could see everything inside from his perspective, and if he listened closely, he would be able to hear everything said as well.

"Ah, Mr. Decco, and distinguished gentlemen," Farriner said, his arms opened wide in greeting. "It is very late, but I managed to fill your order. I expected you much earlier in the evening."

"Something came up, but I am pleased you stayed up for us," Decco said.

"Your order this time was _very_ large, but I managed to fill it in what I feel was in record time. You said you wanted everything ready within three days time. You are a busy man, I imagine, and needed this done. Is it for a grand celebration? A party? A wedding, perhaps?"

Decco shook his head with a smirk on his face. "Neither. This is all for me."

Farriner nodded, shrugging his shoulders. "To each his own. A man with a sweet tooth, indeed."

Farriner went into a back room and then rolled out a large, three-tier chocolate frosted cake with white icing balanced on a metal trolley. On the second, lower shelf, of the trolley were more sweet assortments. On tables around the shop, Farriner gestured to the rest of Decco's order. Indeed it was a large order. Decco was gluttonous and yet stayed so trim. Damascus knew other demons who loved human sweets and were fatter than cows.

"Magnificent, Mr. Farriner, you have truly out done yourself," Decco said.

"I am pleased you like everything you see. Shall it be cash or credit?"

"With tonight's order, I am also here to wipe clean my credit with you."

Farriner looked wide-eyed with excitement. He clapped his hands. "Wonderful, Mr. Decco! If you would give me a minute, I will calculate the total accumulated over the months of our business association. With your account paid, I will finally be able to expand my business."

Farriner turned as if to get his accounts log, but Decco spoke up. "Mr. Farriner, I think you misunderstand me." Farriner looked back at him. "While it is true I owe your quite a sum of money, I am not here to settle accounts. I am here to say good-bye."

"What do you mean?"

It was then one of the other demon's lashed out with an arm and with nails as long as swords and sliced Farriner with four vertical gashes from his throat down to his pelvis. Blood spewed out from all four open wounds, and for a moment, Farriner just stood there frozen in time, his eyes open wide with complete and utter shock of his impeding death. Then he collapsed like a sack of flour and lay in a puddle of his own blood.

"Get the sweets and lets go," Decco said. "I'll miss this place, but all good things must come to an end."

The demon who murdered Farriner retracted his nails and ushered the sweets' trolley to the door; the second demon opened his hood. The demon was scarred with burn marks across the face and neck. Damascus knew him, his name was Pyro. The other demon with the long, extending fingernail claws was called Nailz.

Pyro took a deep breath and spit fire, igniting the shop in flames.

Damascus had seen enough and burst through the window, shattering the frame and sending glass throughout the now aflame bakery. Decco had shielded himself from the flying glass, but then dusted himself off. He was not shocked to see Damascus.

Damascus gazed hard at Decco. "Where is Master Belial?" he demanded.

"Are you _still _on the hunt for that foolish old man?" Decco said. "He disappeared seventy-six years ago."

"And you had something to do with it!"

"It has not escaped my eye that you have been stalking me all these years, ever since the old man vanished. I haven't seen him for a _long_ time."

"You were being foolish and reckless again, he went to stop you. Since that day, no one has seen him. Morning Star has also summoned you to his presence, but you refuse to heed his call. Why?"

"Morning Star _is_ the master of Hell, but he does not _own_ demons. Most demons blindly follow him because they are too stupid and fearful of his wrath. I am neither. My powers are acute and highly skilled; _Master _Belial was a good teacher. I will no longer heed to a _being_ who rules under the guise of empty fear. A revolution is coming, Damascus. Hell is about to explode in a civil war and a new power is rising. Will you chose the ride side to be on?"

"_You_?"

Decco shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe." But then he chuckled. And Damascus knew his answer. "Nailz, Pyro - destroy him!" Decco ordered.

Decco's two allies forced Damascus outside into the street and he defended himself from a series of _martial arts_ kicks and punches from the duo. But they were amateurish at best. In his travels, Damascus had befriended several ninjutsu masters on the island of Japan who taught him many of their special techniques, and he used them against this pair. When Nailz swung at him, and he ducked, he quickly grabbed Nailz' arm and snapped in down, breaking the bone. The demon screamed, and backed away to lick his wounds.

Pryo became more flamboyant when martial arts failed to work on Damascus and began to spit fire at him. For a demon, fire was a breath of _fresh air_, but Damascus avoided it anyhow, and sidestepped an attack. Then jabbed a fist into Pyro's cheekbone, cracking his jaw. In the meantime, Nailz had recovered. For demons, it didn't take them long to heal themselves, and Nailz sliced through the air with his claws, and managed to catch Damascus in the chest. But just barely, slicing the front of his clothes open.

Nailz snickered. But Damascus didn't take heed to his now ripped clothes and avoided even more attacks by the sinister demon. Unrelenting attacks, displacing the air with his claws; Damascus feeling every air displacement. Nailz' claws were razor sharp and after seeing what they did to Farriner, Damascus had no doubt those claws could harm him as well, maybe even slice him in half. And that would not be fun.

The fire spread in the bakery, and suddenly something exploded inside showering debris. Nailz and Pyro fled from the explosion, but Damascus merely ducked as the oven itself, ripped from its housing in a wall, came flying out into the street and over him, and bounced through the window of an adjacent clothing shop. Damascus smirked, somewhat amused, and he didn't know why. Perhaps it was the fact seeing the oven bouncing like a ball, that it _looked_ funny.

But that moment of distraction was all it took for Decco to attack him from inside the bakery, sending an invisible push of displaced air to launch Damascus through the air and into the clothing shop, crashing into display cases and racks of clothes. He slowly got to his feet, and found himself wearing a yellow woman's large rimmed hat with a corset draped over his left shoulder. This was a woman's clothing shop.

Nailz and Pyro stepped over the demolished threshold of the shop and they chuckled.

Damascus flicked off the corset and tossed away the hat as he straightened on his feet. "Not my thing, I prefer men's attire. And yellow is not my color. _Black_ goes with everything, especially to a demon." With a wave of two fingers, Damascus goaded them on to attack him. "Round two, gentlemen. Let's have at it!"

* * *

William T. Spears, head of Reaper Affairs, watched the battle between the demon who was named Damascus against two other demons named Nailz and Pyro, and a third watching called Decco, through the spherical "Looking Glass" receptacle in the Watch Room in _Reaperdem_ headquarters with a careful eye. This was something he did not know about the demon who would later me renamed by Ciel Phantomhive Sebastian Michaelis, and he found watching this demon's past through Mathu Kelvin intriguing.

The being who possessed Mathu Kelvin, a Fallen Reaper, was able to enter Sebastian's mind and watch what the demon was dreaming, hence, so was William. A ghost, and descendant of the Phantonhive line: Renfrew Phantomhive, had put Sebastian into this unconscious state for a transgression the ghost said Sebastian was guilty of - attempting to access secret information hidden inside Lukas Phantomhive's mind. He said he did so to protect or hide a terrible secret.

_Again, Lukas Phantomhive is the culprit to more chaos in the human world. I almost wish the boy had been killed all those years ago. And how did Mathu Kelvin return? Sebastian had banished him to Hell. I may have to intercede in this affair without the Council's authority for the best of all, and deal with the consequences at a later time. Too many secrets are being revealed, both Reaper and demon. Humans are_ not_ suppose to know such things._

William fixed his glasses, and continued to watch through the Looking Glass the battle - in Sebastian's past - with interest. This play-by-play of Sebastian's uprising - this origin of a demon.

**To be continued...**


	21. Damascus Undone

_**CHAPTER 21 - "DAMASCUS UNDONE" **_

The flames extended to the businesses on either side of the bakery as Decco stood with indifference, surrounded by a sea of fire. It reminded him of Hell, a place he once felt welcoming and inviting, but was now only a reminder of how it was in need of an "cleansing" and new leadership.

He would burn the city of London to ashes - one of the greatest and urbanized cities in the known world - and it will send a message to Morning Star that a war was coming…

* * *

Pyro spit fire at Damascus once more and ignited the woman's clothing shop behind him. Nailz also attacked him from the other side. Damascus was cornered. He had goaded them on, but they weren't as stupid as they looked. And as Nailz slashed out at him with his claws, Damascus moved into Pryo's line of fire unavailingly and was caught in a blast of hot fire breath that engulfed him.

Damascus was on fire. His clothes burned and they became charred black, but still partially clung to him and just barely, but he was able to heal his body almost instantaneously. And as he stood there in the street undignified, he felt more embarrassed than angry. He had just used a lot of energy to heal himself and he breathed heavy. He began to sweat, even demons got exhausted.

His comeback to their onslaught had been short-lived. Pyro and Nailz were two very powerful demons and it was no wonder they had allied themselves with Decco.

Decco clapped his hands as he stepped out from the blazing bakery, the entire street was now engulfed in flames. People were just now waking to notice, scrambling to put out the fire with whatever water sources they had, which was very little. And with most of the square block crafted with wooden frame and foundation, the fire was burning shops and buildings like kindling in a fireplace.

"Bravo, my friend," Decco said, "your courage is truly impressive. You are everything I except in a rival and more. You radiate dark energy like a black hole in space beyond this planet, but you have gotten weak in recent years without your precious master. Weak and unfocused."

"Where is Master Belial?" Damascus demanded.

"The fool is some place where you can not reach him. He attempted to attack me, it was his last mistake."

"Last mistake?"

"He underestimated my powers, so I banished him into Purgatory. But a purgatory that has no escape. Much like Fallen Reapers who are punished, their bodies stripped away from them and their consciousness left to wander space and time for all eternity, so to is our teacher. And not even Morning Star can free him!"

Damascus stood straight and tall, his charred clothing hanging off his pale-skinned white body, and despite the threat of Pyro and Nailz and another attack, who both halted when Decco spoke, he didn't care if he would need to battle these demons again to get to Decco.

But he put that thought aside for a moment.

He tensed, clenching a fist at his side, as he saw the district around him engulfed in flames. Bells sounded alerting people of the fire. The once serene night now in chaos thanks to Decco.

"Put these flames out and then we'll talk," Damascus demanded.

"Talk? About what? We have nothing to talk about. This city will go up in flames. Why, you ask? Because you enjoy it so much. This city is where you spend most of you time in the human world. Why, the reason is obvious. You were once one of them and you crave one of them once more. You were very fortuitous when Belial plucked you from certain death in Pompeoo. He gave you a choice: die there and be buried for all eternity under a mountain of volcanic ash, or become a demon and learn to take life. But you still cling to these humans and this world like some materialistic item."

"My heart is human, but I live the life of a demon now. I can not change that. Notwithstanding, I was ordered by Morning Star to retrieve you and bring you back to stand trail for your crimes. We are demons, but there is still order in Hell, and Morning Star is our lord and master."

"_My_ crimes? Don't be facetious, Damascus."

"Master Belial is Morning Star's top lieutenant. Even God has noticed his absence and Morning Star fears without Belial, another Holy War will begin and God will seize this opportunity to destroy Hell, and that will mean we demons will be without a hope and his angels will hunt us down like dogs."

"Let God do so, but I am not doing any favors for Him. I have disassociated myself from the rest of you. You are pathetic, Damascus. A human made demon. _Blasphemy_!"

"I see you are no better than I, Decco. Half-breed. My life was stolen from me by fate. Vesuvius overlooking the city of my birth in 79 AD erupted. I was only twelve years old at the time. Belial offered me a choice. There are days I look back and wonder if I made the correct decision, but then I realize, I made my choice and it cannot be altered. I have tried to be worthy of Belial's kindness ever since."

"You think I am not worthy to be a demon?"

"I think you are childish and reckless like I used to be and setting this fire because you hate humans is proof of this. Let humans do what they want. What they do means nothing to us."

"You insult me! I am _full-demon!_"

"Lair. Even though you have attempted to discredit and silence those who claim the truth to your heritage, you cannot deny who you really are or your history. I was born a human, now I am a demon. I am mocked for this, but I do not let it discourage me. Who you are and where you come from are important in determining your set identity in life, but it doesn't have to dictate how you live."

"You have gone soft, Damascus. No demon would adhere to those principles. You are philosophizing."

"Perhaps nearly two thousand years and the bulk of my experience has done this to me. I was given a second chance, and I have seen things as a demon that I would never have dreamed as a human. Granted, I must kill humans for nourishment, but this, I decided a long time ago, is a necessary thing. It is either this or spend all of eternity buried under tons of volcanic ash and debris, my spirit never to rest."

"You are a demon. You are near to immortal. You can never rest."

"But I am not evil."

"So you a 'good' demon?" Decco laughed. "There is no such thing!"

"I am an obedient demon," Damascus corrected him, "and I know my place, as you should. I can also think for myself. We are the exception to the mediocrity of Hell; most demons are blind-followers catering only to their carnal desires. This is why I believe we are special, you and I, but _you_ waste your gifts on gluttony and sinful objectives. We have so much to offer than what biblical lore has stamped demons to be. But you insist on this pitiful rivalry between us. So, I ask once more: Where is Master Belial? If you tell me, I will leave you in peace and let Morning Star deal with you personally. Otherwise, we will fight each other."

"And I have told you, he is out of reach. Not even I can bring him back from the brink of nothingness now." Decco seemed to curse Damascus with his eyes. "You have become annoying, Damascus. You are weak and worthless, like that of all of Belial's 'children'. I am the only one who has seen this truth."

"Then you are delusional. Belial's children, those of whom he teaches, are not worthless. Granted, many of them have not advanced as we have, but that does not make them worthless."

"You talk too much, Damascus. You have yet to see the light."

Damascus gave a short chuckle. "That's something an angel would say. You have been reading to much biblical lore, Decco" He knew to be compared to an angel was an insult for a demon.

Decco growled angrily. "How dare you mock me! I will burn this city to the ground for that remark! The city you favor so greatly!"

"You may be centuries older than I, but you still have a great deal more to learn, Decco. I will not let you destroy this city!"

Pyro and Nailz moved in closer to him. Damascus saw each of them do so from the corner of his sight. He knew it would not be easy, but he would fight for this city. The city of London, for which he did favor so greatly. Not for its people, but for its culture. He could not let Decco destroy London.

"I will not be belittled or looked down upon you, Damascus! You are beneath me, you are no match for me and the army I am building!"

Decco said his words with such weightiness that they resonated inside Damascus's mind with an unusual eeriness that he had never felt from Decco before. He had made Decco angry, very angry with his philosophizing - the very thing a human would do to reason out the logical principles of life. The ancient Greek philosophers did so on a daily bases, balancing good and evil on a scale and asking questions of morality. But with an evil as great as Decco, there was no sound reasoning with him.

But in an unexpected move, and one whereas Damascus was distracted by Pyro and Nailz advancing upon him from either side, he accidentally took his eyes off Decco for just a moment and Decco threw the large, multi-tier chocolate cake into his face that had somehow survived the bakery inferno. It spattered with full impact into his face, blinding him and covering him with chocolate and white icing.

Blinded, he felt someone grab his shoulders in front and then squeeze them. And in that moment, a jolt of electrifying power surged through his body, atrophying his muscles. He collapsed to his knees and through a small opening in the smothered cake and icing, he saw the vision of Decco's broad, sinister smile -

Sending him into darkness.

* * *

Pain.

All Damascus could _feel_ was pain. But where was he?

He felt like he was in a place between the living and the dead - which was ironic because he was a demon, but this feeling was beyond that. This place was darkness, completely and utter darkness. He was a consciousness within _something else_. Was he inside his own mind?

_Wake up_, a voice said to him from within this darkness. _Your master's' lives depend on it._

_My master's'? _Damascus replied.

_A man with two master's is always conflicted and right now they are in danger. You can feel it, can't you?_

_Who are you?_

_You _know_ who I am. You _must_ remember what you have forgotten, only then can you unleash it. The mind holds many secrets that are often repressed or withheld to protect you. With time, everything comes to pass._

_How will I know?_

_When the time right, you will know… Now, wake up!_

Pain.

All Damascus could feel was pain, when he opened his eyes.

His entire body was wracked with agonizing pain. It was an awful burning sensation he had never felt before, as his body was stretched and pressed down. And he felt "empty". _Yes, of course, Decco took the souls I had collected over the years to make me weak, but left me just enough to stay alive._

His hands and feet were nailed with iron stakes to cross-purported thick pieces of wood crafted into a cross shape and the cross was embedded partially into a darkened wall made of bloodied tissue. His face was saturated with dried blood from something he wore on his head, it felt like a crown of thorns. And from the chill in the place where he was, his clothes had been removed and a simple loincloth was wrapped around his mid-section and pelvis region to cover his dignity.

He was no longer where he once was - in the streets of London, surrounded by fires that threatened to engulf the city, started by Decco had his two demons. But where had Decco brought him?

From what he could gather, this was Decco's "lair", his hideout, the place where criminal intent met sanctity. Pyro and Nailz were busy crafting the lair as Decco lounged in it. Decco sat in a large throne made from the skull and bones of humans. There must have been hundreds, if not thousands, of human bones that filled Decco's lair, giving it an ominous and sinister atmosphere. And the blood and tissue on the walls was what was left over of the humans, stripped off the bones. But there seemed to be an unnatural light coming from within the lair, without it, it would be pitch black. Damascus didn't know where it was coming from, but he could feel it pulsing from the walls and heard something like a heart-beat _somewhere. Yes, of course, his very own collected souls were generating light within the walls to give the lair life._

As his eyes darted around, Decco finally noticed he had awakened. "Ah, welcome back to the land of the living, so to speak," the sinister demon said. "You have been unconscious for three days."

Sharp, surging pain coursed through his muscles with the slightest movement, but it didn't stop him from attempting to free himself. The stakes were nailed into his wrists and into the top of his feet. The symbolism was uncanny, as was the crown of thorns upon his head.

"The ultimate humiliation for a minion of the devil. To be nailed to a religious iconic symbol of God in the same way as his son, crucified by his very own kind." Decco chuckled. "I thought it fitting since you are a 'good' demon now, willing to fight for humans against your own kind."

"Obedient demon," Damascus corrected. "And sometimes a cross is just a cross. It is what people make of it that gives it meaning, nothing more. And if you think that nailing me to this thing will humiliate me? Then you are more foolish than you look."

Decco growled angry, but more out of frustration. "No matter what I do to you, you remain obstinate!"

"I remain truthful and loyal to my principles. Even a demon has principles." Even though it hurt to do so, Damascus smirked. "You can burn me, you can slice me up, you can nail me to a cross, you can even course insurmountable pain throughout my entire body, but I will never yield. _Where is Master Belial?!_"

Decco settled to a calm demeanor. "Still you ask for that old man like a child would a father or mother. Very well, seek for him where the Mind's Eye touches the sky."

"What does that mean?"

"That is the only clue I will give you. But it will do you know good. Without sacrificing the blood of the innocent, Belial will stay in the purgatory I sent him for all eternity."

"One day Decco, you will get your upcomings!"

"Listen to you, you are even beginning to speak like them - those Londoners you praise so highly. But I did you a favor. London has been burning for three says straight. What started in the bakery spread like wildfire and has now encompassed two-thirds of the city. London itself is its own Hell right now."

"_Noooo!_"

"That's right, my dear demon brethren. Your playthings are either dead or dying."

"_You bastard!_"

"You and I hold an unusual kinship that I find intriguing, whether it be our many skirmishes over the years or perhaps the fact we are both students of the same teacher. But, nevertheless, I will grant you the pleasure of watching your 'pets' run around like rats, much like the citizens of Pompeii did nearly 1,500 years ago. You will watch them die, like you did your mother and father, unable to help them."

"Demons like humans can die! I will kill you someday, Decco. _I swear it!_"

"Perhaps someday, my dear Damascus. But not today." And Decco laughed.

* * *

Damascus had not realized at the time the extent of Decco's words when he said, "You will watch them die, like your did your mother and father, unable to help them," as he hung from the cross on a forest hill overlooking the city of London, the city still smoking and engulfed in flames. They had put him here, his cross staked into the ground, to watch his favorite city burn to ash, and then left.

He could hear the screams of its people, the bells of the fire crews attempting to smother the flames, and he could feel the chaos that ensued within its people. It was a dark place now filled with people of sinister intent using the chaos of the fire to loot and plunder people of their valuables. No more was it a city of cultural kinship and liking. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

And in his weakened state, he could not free himself.

They wanted him to suffer, like the biblical figure for whom he now emphasized, nailed to this cross. Unfortunately for him, the screams from the citizens of London would appear to be his epitaph. For if he could not free himself, they will be the last thing he will hear before he turned to dust when his energy ran out. But no one would find him here, secluded by lush forest and with people preoccupied with London burning.

And then there was his ultimate shame.

He lowered his chin to his chest with somber thoughts, thinking of Belial. "I am sorry, Master, I have failed you…"

**To be continued…**


	22. The Woman With A Special Gift

**_CHAPTER 22 - "THE WOMAN WITH A SPECIAL GIFT"_**

* * *

**Note to reader: the following excerpt newspaper article actually ran in the London Gazette between the times mentioned. However, for this story, I cleaned it up a little for grammar, because it was badly written - so it can be easily read here. However, the article reads for itself and credit is given to its author.**

* * *

THE LONDON GAZETTE - Published by Authority

From Monday, September 3, to Monday, September 10, 1666

_Whitehall, Sept. 8_

_The ordinary course of this paper having been interrupted by a sad and lamentable accident of fire, lately happened in the City of London: it hath been thought fit for satisfying the minds of so many of His Majesty's good subjects who must need be concerned for the issue of so great an accident, to give this short, but true account of it._

_On the second instant, at one o'clock in the morning (approximately), there happened to break out, a sad and deplorable fire in Pudding Lane, near New Fish Street, which falling out at that hour of the night, and in a quarter of town so close-built with wooden pitched houses, spread itself so far before day, and with such distraction to the inhabitants and neighbors, that care was not taken for the timely preventing and further diffusion of it, but pulling down houses, as ought to have been; so that this lamentable fire, in a short time, because too big to be mastered by any engines or working near it._

_It fell out most unhappily too, that a violent easterly wind fomented it, and kept it burning all that day, and the night following spreading itself up to Grace Church Street and downwards from Cannon Street to the Water Side, as far as the "Three Cranes in the Vinery"._

_The people in all parts about it, distracted by the vastness of it, and their particular care to carry away their goods, many attempts were made to prevent the spreading of it by pulled down houses and making great intervals, but all in vain; the fire seizing upon the timber and rubbish, and so continuing it set even through those spaces, and raging in a bright flame all Monday and Tuesday. Notwithstanding, His Majesty's own and His Royal Highness's (Charles II) indefatigable and personal pains to apply all possible remedies to prevent it, calling upon and helping people with their Guards; and a great number of nobility and gentry tirelessly assisting therein, for which they were requited with a thousand blessings from the poor, distressed people._

_By the favor of God, the wind slackened a little on Tuesday night and the flames, meeting with brick buildings at the Temple, by little and little, it was observed to lose its force on that side, so that on Wednesday morning, we began to hope well, and his Royal Highness, never despairing or slacking his personal care, wrought so well that day, assisted in some parts by the Lords of the Council, before and behind it, that a stop was put to it at the Temple Church, near Holbrook Bridge, Pie Corner, Alders Gate, Cripple Gate, near the lower end of Coleman Street, at the end of Basin Hall Street, by the Postern at the upper end of Bishops Gate Street and Leaden Hall Street, at the Standard in Corn Hill at the church in Fenchurch Street, near Cloth Workers Hall in Mining Lane, at the middle of Mark Land and at the Tower dock._

_On Thursday, by the blessing of God, it was wholly beat down and extinguished. But so as that evening, it unhappily burst out again afresh at the Temple, by the falling of some sparks (as it supposed) upon a pile of wooden buildings; but his Royal Highness (Charles II), who watched there that whole night in person, by the great labors and diligence used, and especially by the by applying (gun)powder to blow up the houses about it, before day most happily mastered it._

_Strangers, Dutch and French were apprehended during the night upon suspicious that they contributed, mischievously to it, who are all imprisoned and information prepared to make a severe inquisition here upon by my Lord Chief Justice Keeling, assisted by some of the Lords of the Privy Council, and some principal members of the city, notwithstanding with suspicion, the manner of the burning all along in a train, and so blown forward in all its chance, or to speak better, the heavy hand of God upon us, for our sins, showing us the terror of His Judgment in thus rising the fire, and immediately after His miraculous and never enough to be acknowledged Mercy in putting a stop to it -_

* * *

"Kassy, where are you dear?"

The voice of her father startled her. She had been so engrossed in the newspaper article that everything beyond seemed moot. But she was also _feeling_ something else deep within her mind that she couldn't quite explain. The only way she could simply describe it was she was being "watched" by another pair of eyes. But not physically, but beyond _elsewhere…_

Kassandra Smythe turned her eyes when she heard her father call her. She had been in the middle of cleaning one of the second floor rooms of the Boarding House, she, her father, and others were staying at, in as London, when she began to read the newspaper on a table. She had been home schooled, and her father was very smart, so she was very grateful that unlike other women of her age, twenty-three, she knew how to read. Reading was normally a "privilege" reserved for the nobility and the wealthy, not for simple peasants.

The article she had been reading, that she only got half through, was an account of events that took place during the last ten days in London, that many may not have been privy to due to their own affairs during the chaos of the fire in the city and events that happened afterwards.

Only by the grace of God had this Boarding House not been touched by the fire, but it had still gotten dirty and smoke infested. She was a maid in the Boarding House as well as living in it. It was the perfect arrangement. She worked for house and board and meals, providing her services in house-cleaning. Otherwise, she and her father would be living on the streets, and in his great need for help, the Landlord, was grateful that she and her father had not fled London like so many other citizens had in a panic.

But the article was distressing to say the least and there was a great deal more to be done to help all the displaced families who lost their homes due to the fire. It was said that it started in a bakery on Pudding Lane. If she recalled, that area was not a very good area, but it was known for one thing: Mr. Thomas Farriner's Bakery. Unfortunately, the article also said that that was the bakery that started the fire. Other information from other sources told was that Mr. Thomas Farriner was estranged from his family - and everyone thought he didn't have a family as he was often alone and he never spoke of them - but they had been visiting with him at the time and managed to escape from a top floor window and to a neighbors home. Thomas Farriner did not, however. He was down in the bakery when the fire began.

One person claimed he saw people in the area near the bakery - four in total - fighting, and said one of them breathed fire and another had long, slender nails that coursed through the air like sword blades, and both were attacking another man. It appeared that three men were attacking one in the street - who also appeared to be dressed undignified - perhaps the man who started the fire? And these men were trying to capture this man - a Dutchman, a Frenchman, or a disgruntled English peasant who had bad feelings towards the government and wanted to cause chaos? But where they went afterwards, no one knew.

Whether this was true, the only sheer truth was Mr. Thomas Farriner was dead, his body burned in the fire. Unfortunately, a maid servant also died in the fire.

Reports had the fire reaching all the way to and destroying Saint Paul's Cathedral where many people were held up for safety, thought to be safe due to its sturdy structure. But if the fire destroyed the church and she feared the worse for those people. And yet, very few people were reported killed in the fire. Most of the deaths happened afterwards when the looting and violence started. Fortunately, Kassandra and her father were in a building that also housed a policeman, who kept a watchful eye on the area.

"Kassy! Where are you, child?!" her father called her again.

She put down the newspaper on a table and went out into the hallway to the wooden staircase. Here she saw her father looking up to her from the bottom of the staircase in the main floor lobby. "I am here, father. Can I help with anything?" she said.

Her father was a sweet looking, older gentleman with grayish, white hair, and in his sixties. Kassandra's mother had died of polio several years earlier and her brother and his wife lived out of the city somewhere in the countryside. And soon after they married, for love, it was learned she was very rich, but she never told him, as she was estranged from her father who lived in France. After he died, they inherited his wealth.

"Oh, you are cleaning upstairs? I was unaware. Very good."

"All the rooms are finished, father. Would you like me to help you downstairs?"

"Come down here and talk, it is not polite to shout from the upper floor." She did so, and then he said, "Kassy, I received a letter from your brother. He has requested we come stay with him for awhile and leave the city until it is safe, and I agree with it."

"But father, the house, the cleaning…"

"Your brother is very rich, Kassy. The only reason I did not accept his offer of money given our way before is out of pride. But now I fear for your safety, and this city is rotten."

"London is our home, father."

"We will only be staying with your brother until things settle down in the city. Will you agree?"

She gave a glance around the Boarding House, at the place she had called home for many years, ever since she was seventeen. Many of the boarders had fled when the city caught fire, there was only her, her father, the landlord and the policeman left, and the policeman had said in confidence to her that he was thinking of moving elsewhere soon, so there would be no-one left when he departed. And if that happened, would she even have a job? Would the landlord close up the boarding house? Sell it? Kick them out into the street?

It took her a moment to think, but not long to decide. She gave her father a sweet, tilted smile. "Indeed, father. I feel a change in the wind."

"A change in the wind? Are you getting another one of your _feelings_, Kassy? You spook me sometimes."

"Only a woman's feeling, father." She smiled sweetly. "I feel that a new chapter in our lives is set to begin. That no matter how tragic things may look in London, God had chosen us to continue living our lives, even if it not here." She then looked inward, putting a finger to her lips in thought. "And I see someone - a handsome, young stranger. He is perched high _somewhere_ overlooking a vastness of anarchy. But he will change our lives forever."

"Like I said, Kassy dear, you spook me sometimes," her father said. "I will send a messenger boy with our reply to your brother, and within the next week or so, we should be out of danger."

"Danger is only perception, father. I feel no danger from the world towards us."

"I will write a letter and then call a messenger boy, notwithstanding."

* * *

Kassandra received a reply letter from her brother a week later, but due to the city streets, they were told they would have to make their way to its outskirts, so a horse and carriage could bring them the rest of the way to his home in the countryside. There was just too much debris and fire damage to have a transport collect them. This was understandable, and so they gathered their meager belongings, said their good-bye to the landlord, who begged them to stay, and began their long trek through the city proper.

The newspaper article in the London Gazette did not do the damage justice. The city was in utter ruin. And it was unfortunate that history will blame the Farriner Bakery for it. Even with clean up crews, it will take London years to recover and rebuild. But she knew that that it would. And she had a strong feeling that she would come back to London in the very near future, and with this handsome, young stranger she saw in a vision. She had even began to dream about him, as if he were calling out to her to find him…

They had reached the outskirts of the city without incident hours later and a horse and carriage was waiting for them where the city border ended and the suburbs began. The driver helped them into the carriage, and told them that it would be an hour trip to William, Kassandra brother's house, in the woods due to winding woods and intersecting roadways. Vandals were out in force staging cues to rob coaches, so a safe route was warranted, and the driver knew of one. And hence, an hour later, they arrived at William's house safely.

William and his wife were waiting outside their lovely home in the suburbs with their manservant when the carriage pulled up to the front entrance. They must have been watching and waiting for the carriage, she decided, and as it approached the house and rode up the winding road, they came out. When the carriage stopped and the door opened, William stepped forward and held out his hand to help her out.

"Welcome, dear sister," he greeted happily. But he was not at all kind to their father. "Father, welcome," he said plainly.

Kassandra and William's wife exchanged sorrowful glances knowing why the estranged greeting.

As Kassandra stepped out, she had hoped time away from each other would chill this abhorrence they had between them. Father had wanted William to marry someone else, but he refused and a shouting match ensued, which then in turn, caused William to leave. Over the years, they spoke in letters, and William told father that he was engaged to a beautiful woman, Ms. Beautieuse Livingston, whom at the time, he did not know of her wealth. It was a test, to see if he loved her and not her money. And he had passed with flying colors, later revealing to him her great fortune.

But the feelings between William and their father remained. It was not to say that their father finally accepted William's decision to marry against his wishes, but from the words that were spoken during their shouting match. Words that were not to be repeated, but had never been forgotten by William, even though their father had apologized. But William had not forgiven their father.

"My dear boy, what a wonderful home," their father said, attempting to sound joyful, hoping to brighten William's mood, knowing full-well the tension between them. More so by William.

"Indeed, father," William said, as he escorted them inside, their manservant following. They had never been inside before, only told of the house, and visually it did not disappoint the eye. It was a two-story, brick, almost-manor-like house with multiple rooms, a sitting room, a dining room, a library and a game room. And to add to its distinction, it was surrounded by forest, far away from the polluted atmosphere of London.

Kassandra could also feel an energy in the air and it was not coming from the air which gave her breath extra oxygen, fresh air normally did that. But this strange energy came from the forest, and for a moment she looked out a window towards the trees beyond, drawn by this unwavering energy. She couldn't explain the feeling, but she knew it had something to do with what her father called her "special gift". A gift that if anyone knew about, she would be probably be arrested and burned at the stake for witchcraft and accused of being in collusion with the Devil that caused the city of London to become aflame.

"Sister, are you all right?" William said, and she turned to see the company staring at her. "Is everything okay with you, Kassandra? You looked very focused a moment ago. Do you see something in the trees?"

"Perhaps some wild animal?" her father answered, giving her a _don't-do-that-here_ look. Only her father knew of her special gift. And he knew when she was getting one her "feelings"_. _"We don't get many in the city - mostly feral dogs and cats, and a lot of rats."

"Well, we don't have many of those here," William said. "Bryan makes sure the grounds are pretty clear." Bryan was their young manservant. He was in his early twenties, and was a mute. He was born unable to speak, but from what William told her in letters, Bryan was very smart, and knowledgeable in a great many things, including cooking, cleaning and housework. "Bryan, would you make us some tea?"

Bryan bowed and left.

William escorted them to the second floor, up the main staircase and to their room, which was one of many on this floor. It was lavish and large, and there was an adjoining room with an equal grandiose room, all lovingly pre-furnitured, but was slightly smaller than the main room. Kassandra figured the smaller room would be hers. She could not believe the richness that her brother had married into, even against father's wishes. But he had married for love, and that is what Kassandra knew mattered most.

She found herself drawn towards the nearest window, looking out towards the same direction she had earlier, but this time she was more subtle about her _feeling_ and said, "What a lovely view, brother."

"Yes," he said, coming to stand at her side, looking out the window with her. "And fortunately, we are looking away from London, so the plumes of smoke from the burning buildings do not askew the view."

"London is recovering," she said, turning back to face him. "It will rebuild."

He gave her a smile. "I know, dear sister. But in hearing reports about people being assaulted in the streets, I thought you would be better off safe here with me and Beautieuse. By the by, you will no longer have to slave all day at that Boarding House for a landlord that pays you a penance of a wage."

"I do not wish to be a freeloader, brother."

William cupped her chin between forefinger and thumb. "Not to worry, sister. Bryan can handle everything. He is an excellent manservant and can handle everything around the house."

"He is an orphan, correct?"

William nodded. "And he comes from London. Beautieuse's father found him wandering the streets one day, cold and hungry, and gave him some food. The boy was so grateful that he wished to repay Beautieuse's father's kindness and be his boy servant, albeit unable to speak since birth. Her father took him on as a temporary bases, but then accepted him full time. And now, Bryan is Beautieuse's manservant, since her father's passing. And he has accepted the job graciously."

Kassandra frowned.

"Why the glum face, Kassandra?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Serving another is not living, brother. It is less than living if a person spends their life repaying a debt."

This time William frowned. "Be mindful of your words, sister. There is no wrong-doing in serving another, even for a one-time debt of kindness. Even so, that debt, as you call it, helped Bryan leave the streets of London, and he had lived a healthy life ever since that day. I dread he may be dead if Beautieuse's father had not had a kind-heart that day, albeit, being a miserable old bastard every other day of the year."

Beautieuse didn't deny this fact when Kassandra gave her a simple glance. "Not to speak ill of the dead," Beautieuse began to say, "my father was a grouchy old man filled with arrogant pride, and I am surprised Bryan stayed with him. Notwithstanding, I believe Bryan didn't have anywhere else to go."

Kassandra nodded.

William then smiled. "Come, sister, father. Enough of this philosophizing, and enjoy some Earl-Grey with us in the Sitting Room. I am sure Bryan is waiting for us. You can investigate your rooms further later."

They did so, and were served by Bryan. Not only tea, but also mini-crab fish cakes that he had personally made in the kitchen in preparation for Kassandra and her father coming. They were delicious, cooked to perfection, and Kassandra had a moment of indulgence of having more than just one.

Bryan looked pleased that she was enjoying the mini-crab cakes, but then left to leave them alone, to talk, and to get reacquainted. From what William had said in his letters, Bryan had many duties to perform, and he enjoyed the work, and never complained. But Kassandra sensed a slight loneliness from him, and she did not attribute it to one of her _feelings_, she could see it in his ocean blue eyes. Would he experience everything there was in life serving her brother and his wife? Would he ever fall in love?

"I believe it is time to bury the hatchet between us, father," William said, and she quickly turned, focusing in on the conversion, as her brother and father said adjacent one another on wooden, half-moon, padded-seated chairs. Beautieuse said next to her on a long couch, sipping her cup of tea. "I know the anger is more on my end than yours. You say you have accepted my decision, but have you really? Or are you merely glad that eventually it came about Beautieuse was indeed rich and now you and Kassandra are out of poverty?"

"Please William, don't start this argument again; don't be bitter," Kassandra said.

"No Kassy, let him have his say, let it all come out now," her father said. "If you are bitter about my wanting you to marry for money and not love prior, then I am sorry, again," he said to William. "I only wished the best of all possible outcomes for your future to live outside poverty. Which, indeed, you are now. And _I am glad_ that you have found both. I will not deny this fact. I am also proud of you, son, and I always will be. You have worked hard all your life and now you can enjoy God's good graces upon thee."

William nodded, but he appeared to contemplate something first, before saying, "So, you are saying, you accept my refusal of your word, of my dishonor of your parental masterhood, to marry Beautieuse despite not knowing of her wealth at the time? You cursed me forever for this, do you remember, father? And even harsher words came out of your mouth that I will not repeat here or ever."

"I am truly sorry, how many times must I apologize?" their father said solemnly. "Please forgive _me_."

William grumbled, but Beautieuse then seemed to be the buffer of good tidings. "Peace has been restored; renewal is in the air," she said with a straight tone, looking at William. "To forgive is divine, and a life with bitterness in one's heart will eat at a person like poison in this world and beyond. William?"

William nodded, albeit somewhat reluctant. When someone has felt bitterness towards another for so long it's difficult to just put it aside instantaneously. "It will take time, but I am willing to make go of it," he said.

Kassandra smiled, as both her brother and father stood up and shook hands to wash away the bad feelings between them. But as the talk continued, and good anecdotes were brought up from William's childhood with his father, Kassandra once again looked out the nearest window from her seated position, to the forest. She was having a _feeling _again of someone out there _somewhere_, calling to her.

* * *

Later that night, when the sun had sunk behind the trees and a full-moon brightened the sky with its brilliance, Kassandra stood in her white night dress and gazed longingly out her bedroom window. The feeling of this _calling _was very strong and it was coming from the forest, or somewhere beyond the trees. Was it someone else with a "special gift" like hers? But this _calling_ was not one of longing, but of sadness and sorrow, and of pain; of regret, guilt and of a _feeling_ of fatality, as if someone was close to death.

She had began to have dreams of a certain handsome, young stranger in need of help at the Boarding House about a week prior, but she could not see his face nor did he know where he was. Now that she was here, the _feeling_ of this person was stronger, much stronger than before, as if coming here was pre-destined for her to find him. Was he out there somewhere? Now?

_Help me, Kassy_, suddenly came a voice inside her mind. _I am reaching out to you because only you can _feel_ me._

"Who are you?" she said softly. "Only my father calls me Kassy."

_Someone who will not hurt you. But time is short, and I am near death. Come seek me out beyond the forest. I know you have been having dreams about me, I have been projecting myself outward, to seek anyone who can_ hear_ me. Your special gift does so, and I have seeing things through your eyes. Thus, I am asking you for your help now. I will guide you to me. I am close._

Kassandra nodded, she had to find him. "I will come. Show me the way."

She put on a housecoat and footwear, and then left the house.

But almost immediately she was halted by the sound of a loud clap. She turned sharply to see Bryan. He was working in the flowerbed with a lighted lantern. The moon was bright and lightened the surrounding grounds, so she figured he was taking advantage of it. He looked at her with a concerned, curious look, then gestured with his hands outward, that Kassandra took as saying: _Where are you going_?

She had no time to explain her, and said, "Come with me, Bryan, and bring an ax. It may be needed."

He scratched his head in confusion, then pointed to the moon, which probably meant, _It is night time, and you should be sleeping._ As her father, her brother and his wife were. And also Bryan should be in the servant's quarters. She was going to go into the forest with him or without, and he probably knew it. So with a nod and probably an instinctive, albeit a male, over-protectiveness, he took an ax that was sitting in a near-by wood pile, collected the lantern, and gestured with the ax, saying, _You lead. _

And they entered the forest together.

Inside the forest, the umbrella of the trees shielded the moonlight from coming through the tops by more than half and it was a spooky place to be, but the light from the lantern, for which Bryan now began to lead, illuminated their path. Kassandra didn't know how deep this forest ran, but she wagered Bryan knew. If he had been Beautieuse's manservant for nearly three years since her father's passing and had been living here for just as long, then he probably knew his way around and she let him lead. But lead to where? Not even she knew. She was just following her _feeling_, and the further she walked, the stronger it got.

The edge of a clearing was seen and they made their way to it. And there, in the clearing, they both gasped ,shocked at what they saw.

On a small hill top, overlooking the city of London in the far distance, was a young man, with pale white skin, beaten and bloodied, and nailed to a cross, near-naked, wearing only a loincloth and a crown of thorns much like the Lord Jesus Christ in the bible. Bryan ran to it quickly, gazing up upon the man, then turned and looked at her and shook his head. She didn't know whether that meant the poor man was dead or alive.

Who had done this to him? And was this the man who had just spoken to her in her mind? Did he have a special gift too? He must have to do so. If so, that meant he was still alive, albeit looking unconscious and asleep at the moment. And he looked to be near-death.

A cold wind suddenly blew across the clearing and she pushed back her long, auburn hair that had momentarily blinded her. And then she gasped again, when she saw the stranger with his eyes now wide open, looking down at her. "Oh my dear Lord, you're alive! Bryan, cut him down _now_!"

**To be continued...**


	23. Ronald Knox Returns

_**CHAPTER 23 - "RONALD KNOX RETURNS"**_

Ronald Knox considered himself the atypical _lounge lizard _when he wasn't working, and he liked to play games, too. So when other Reapers called him a Man-Child, an adult who acted like a child, he just slumped it off. But they were essentially correct. Although, he could be serious if called upon. He just took things in stride. There was enough to worry about in this world than being a grumpy goose about it, like a certain someone he knew - the Head of Reaper Affairs, William T. Spears, who never stopped frowning, and who never ceased in presenting a straight and narrow approach to Reapering. It was like William was born, not with a chip on his shoulder, but with a stick up a certain body orifice and it was wedged in tight, his butt cheeks clenched, so if anyone wished to remove it, he absolutely denied them.

There were two philosophies to Reapers: First: Were they alive or were they dead? and Two: Could they be both? This was Reaper Philosophy 101, and the answer was Yes. To both questions. Reapers were both dead and alive at the same time, as they traveled across the Astral Plain - an energy barrier intersecting realms and plains of existence - to collect souls to bring back for processing. It was a thankless job, but someone had to do it, or there would be just as many spirits running around in the world that there were people, and it was already very crowded with just _the living_. Albeit, there were still quite a lot of spirits roaming the world that still had to be collected, and Reapers could not be everywhere. But he never thought about it. He just did his job, did _what_ he was told, and went _where_ he was told. He let Processing worry about them and if he was ordered to receive a _Wanderer_, as they were called, he did.

As of this moment, this shift was officially over. Due to a scheduling error, he had to work a seventy-two hour shift and he didn't like that. And he was very busy. But in truth, if an emergency happened, a Reaper could be upon at any time. So did Reapers really have time off? Only if they officially requested it and file the documents for such in triplicate and then have it signed by their superior, a.k.a. Mr. Sunshine, as he jokingly called William. But never to his face. To call your supervisor something other than his official title was subordination and you could get docked for that or demoted for that, or even worse. And if you engaged in something beyond Reaper duties, or caused a major incident, you could even be relieved of your duties, or worse.

There was a lot of talk about Fallen Reapers lately since the incident considering three and a demon and a couple of humans months back. The Fallen Reapers were defeated, but only one was captured - by him, and he boasted about it every chance he got. The other two, well, he shivered to think about how they were "enjoying" Hell. The Fallen Reaper known as Mathu Kelvin joining with another was dragged into Hell after a powerful encounter with a demon in the human realm, called Sebastian Michaelis, who presently had a Faustian covenant with a human, a thirteen year old English boy named Ciel Phantomhive. Boy, that kid had it rough. To loose both his parents and his twin brother to a nefarious group of people bent on personal fancy and communication demonic forces, only to have their fortune reversed; then to have his brother return, only to almost loose him to a trio of Fallen Reapers who wished to retrieve something stored deep inside the boy's mind, which, if retrieved, would be so dramatic, it could cause the boy's death. It was only thanks to the strong covenant between Ciel Phantomhive that Lukas Phantomhive was spared.

But once again, that was a human affair. And Reapers rarely got involved in those. Although, there have been some occurrences where Reapers engaged in sinister undertakings in human endeavors. And by this fact, everyone knew about Grell Sutcliffe, the so-called serial killer of prostitutes in _White Chapel _in London nicknamed Jack the Ripper, along with a human female, who remarkably turned out to be Ciel Phantomhive's aunt. Now there was a twist in plot developments. Who would have thunk that? And yet, there were rumors the cause of much of Ciel Phantomhive, and much of his family's misfortune, was from a certain blue gem - the Hope Diamond, which was said to be cursed and to curse anyone who possessed it or wore it, and the boy wore this diamond embedded in a ring on a daily bases, as if it were a part of his anatomy. It was all so crazy.

He opened the door to his apartment and sighed relief that he was finally home. His home was in a building, in the heart of _Reaperdem Metropolis_, an urbanized city were Reapers could be close to Headquarters. Although, with a wink, they could travel hundred or even thousands of kilometers of distance in a second if need be. It wouldn't have made a difference were he lived, he loved the bustle of city life and its many facets. He was a socialite and a gamester, and much of what the human world had, Reapers had, and more. Reapers just had a lot _more_ imagination, and humans were kind of dry with their games and activities.

He jumped and landed haphazardly on a large, black leather couch, plopping his bum on the soft cushion and loosened his tie, opening up two buttons of his shirt. The couch was facing a large window overlooking _Reaperdem Metropolis_. The view was epic and astonishing, and he was lucky to find a place like this. But if he ever wanted privacy, he could always made it into a solid wall. That was the best thing about having special powers, you could do next to anything, like bend the laws of physics or time travel or cross through space/time barriers, with authority of course. To do so without permission would violate policy. And in being a Reaper, there are many rules to follow. That's why being a Reaper was considered a responsibility in its own rite, and only a certain person who had the right moral ethics and proper mental stability could be one. And yet, that trio of Fallen Reapers had both, until they decided to play god with human beings, that eventually ended with cataclysmic results, destroying an entire civilization: Atlantis.

He recalled his shift. He had had collected seven "playful" spirits who refused to leave the human realm and enjoyed haunting people to the point of scaring them to near death. Humans called these playful spirits "Poltergeist's"; the word "poltern" coming from the German word: "to make noise", and the word Geist: "ghost". Put them together: Polter n geist, "noisy spirit". It was fitting actually, but they were still _Wanderers_, according to Reaper records.

Next he collected two lovers who just refused to cross-over because they were so distraught over what they had done, in committing suicide because their parents wouldn't let them be together - they thought in death they would be but as ghosts they would _never_ be, much like Romeo and Juliet in that Shakespearean play - they refused to leave because they believed they had committed what biblical lore said was "the ultimate sin" and thought they deserved to suffer in sorrow for all eternality.

But it didn't work like that. All ghosts were collected for processing. Where they went afterwards was up to the Great Council or "Decisioners", who made many of the important decisions on spirit destinations. The irony of it was, as many humans believed, God didn't make those decisions, he was _much_ too busy for trivial things, so that's why He created Reapers, as go-betweens, so He could work on the bigger stuff, like holding the universe together from opposing cosmic forces - colossal stuff like that!

Lastly, he was ordered to retrieve some sadistic, but poor bastard, who had his manhood bitten off by a fellow human in the act of homoerotica coitus. After investigation, it was learned the man's own brother did this to him in revenge for the sins he had committed against his younger sibling, and also, his brother was being possessed by a demon at the time, by a powerful demon who was building an army. This again was not his affair, but it had to be reported to the higher-ups, namely his supervisor, William. What he did with the information was none of his concern, but Knox did feel sorrow for the guy, who, when he had come to collect him, burst out in wails of tears for his transgressions in life, especially against his little brother. Most spirits get sentimental and apologetic when they learn their human life is gone, but life is life, and what a human does with theirs is up to them - whether they wish to waste its gift or bask in its blessings.

Knox recalled the name of this ghost: Thann Von Strauss, son of a wealthy business man who dealt in the imports/exports of leather goods. The man's body was found sprawled out on the floor of some gloomy looking circular room, walls painted black, and he was utterly saturated in his own blood. And when he stood before Thann Von Strauss's spirit, file folder in hand, the man begged him for one more chance, to make things right. Knox remembered denying his request, although with permission, he _could_ grant it in an instant. But Reapers would have to explain why they restored a life. And it was a complicated process. Not restoring life, but filling out the paper work.

Now, if a Reaper had caused the accidental death of a human while collecting a spirit, then there were certain _special_ circumstances to restore that person to the living. The request would still have to go through processing and a decision made and it could take sometimes months. Processing had a long line to deal with and most of the tellers took tea drinks doing the busiest hours, so the lines were always long. This, however, was not a special circumstance. But, a dangerous demon _was_ loose in the world and causing havoc.

_Let William deal with it,_ _I'm off the clock, _he decided.

On a large, flat, transparent screen on a far wall in this room, he used telepathy to switch on RNN - the Reaper News Network, where all the latest news in _Reaperdem_ was broadcast in Cinevision, but he muted the sound. The anchor was a real wallflower and spoke with an uninterested tone, as if he hated his job. But he had had the job for nearly two centuries, so Knox could understand the man's mind numbing boredom with it. There were times, he found being a Reaper boring, but he needed a job - Reapers had expenses, and this is how he was able to afford his apartment, and the lavish furnishings within.

And working was the only way he was able to rebuild his Deathscythe, that that Mathu Kelvin, that damn Fallen Reaper, blew-up during his encounter with at the Phantomhive estate. He managed to transfer the FR known as Ironstadt to processing just before his Deathscythe was destroyed, but he took flak from other Reapers for allowing a Fallen Reaper, albeit a very powerful one, to destroy it. And William deducted him two demerit points for getting involved in the human affair. The amount of points you gather indicates the level in which you can advance to a higher level paying position. Which over the last couple of months, he managed to get back on par again. Grell Sutcliffe, who was already on thin ice, got the same, but no further punishment for a gross breach of the policy was forthcoming. And that was fine with him.

But in light of the FR situation, William felt it prudent to initialize a new department to deal with Fallen Reapers in the field, to suppress their natural powers. FR's still kept their powers, although they didn't have bodies, left to float aimlessly for all eternity for their criminal transgressions in the _Reaperdem_, and there was quite a few thousand of them, and after this incident with human possession, it was feared more FR's would attempt to inhabit human bodies and "live" again, and if that happened, there would be more incident's like at the Phantomhive estate. William didn't want that, so he created a task force and a new department called Reaper X to hunt down the FR's and bring them in, suppress their powers somehow, and then release them again so they would not be a threat.

After the incident, sympathizers to these Fallen Reapers were apprehended and punishment issued, and they were the first to have their natural powers suppressed and their bodies stripped from them, to be left floating aimlessly for all eternity. It was a very harsh punishment, Knox thought, but order must be maintained or chaos reigned, and this was a very surefire way to maintain loyalty, as well. Fear was the ultimate control mechanism and it worked 99% of the time, no two ways about it.

Like said before, the _Reaperdem_ could create things beyond human comprehension at this time in history, and when Knox clapped his hands twice, the entire room he was in boomed with heavy, sadistic music, played by one of his favorite Reaper bands: "The Sadistic 5". Everyone had interests and he like games and music. He mostly listened to this music to drift away from the realities of his job. It helped him to relax and recup, and after a seventy-two hour shift, he was due for some rest. The music _moved_ him and he jumped up and started to air play one of the band's instruments, moving his hands in fluent, but a swift motion, his two-tone blond/black hair bouncing up and down, back and forth - accidentally forgetting he was still wearing his Reaper glasses. And they flew off his face and landed on the floor, one piece snapping off.

He cursed at his stupidity, clapped off the music, and quickly picked his glasses off the floor. He tried to put the piece back, but they were unfixable. If your glasses got damaged, you filed a report and put them in for repair. But few Reapers filed these reports because they looked after their glasses. If William saw this, he'd have a fit and lecture him on the importance of always to be mindful of your glasses. Reaper glasses were not only a fashion statement, but a status symbol.

And they looked good on him. But now one piece had broken off. He could still wear them, but they only settled on the bridge of his nose and one ear. And he had already filed his reports on his spirit collection for the last three days, and no where did he mention his glasses were damaged. Maybe he can claim he forgot to mention about his glasses?

_Yeah right, no Reaper would "forget" such an important detail, _he thought.

At that startling moment, a small, glass cube tinged with a bluish color sitting on a table next to his leather couch, dinged three times. _Awwww maaaan! C'mon!_ _I just got in! And of all the times!_ It could only be one person calling him. He didn't want to answer it, but he knew he had to and slammed a little too hard on its top in answer, and a blue, translucent, life-size projection of William flashed from its core receptor and appeared before him. He could see RNN in the background.

"Boss, what's up?" he said, trying to act cheerfully. He had his glasses on, but he hoped William didn't notice they were broken. Unfortunately, they slipped off his face and to the floor. "Um," he smiled nervously, "they're got broke during my last mission…"

"Interesting," William said, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. He just happened to have file folder in his hand and he sifted through the contents. "No report your submitted in your mission log indicate any such damage occurred. Therefore, I must conclude you are being deception, again. What is it this time, band solo?"

"What are you - a mind reader?"

"No, I am merely being observant. Your undignified dress attire tells me you attempted to _relax_ after a clinical error had you work for seventy-two hours straight and it is obvious you forgot you were wearing your glasses and they fell off."

"Yes, and whose blunder was that?"

William cleared his throat. "The fault is with Scheduling. Take it up with them."

"I shall, and I'll also ask for some serious overtime pay."

"You are entailed to it, but I contacted you on another matter. You presence is needed in the field."

Knox gasped shocked. "Pardon? William, I just worked _seventy-two hours_! This is against the labor laws. I'll file a complaint with Reaper Resources. You can't have me work another shift."

"For which I will read and take whatever you remark under consideration. But to save on further quarrelsome discussion, one of the souls you recently collected has escaped Processing. Since he was retrieved on one of _your _missions, it is your duty to recapture him."

"_My_ duty?" Knox felt like he was about to scream, but then he snorted and composed himself. To shout at William would be like yelling at a brick wall. "Escaped, how?"

"Elusively," William said.

Knox frowned. "That's not much help, _sir_."

"All details can be collected from Information when you arrive back to headquarters."

Knox folded his arms across his chest in a snooty posture. "No rest for the wicked," he said.

"Indeed, and a new pair of glasses will be waiting for you when you arrive. Your size is on file. They will be charged to your account." A small smile broadened William's face, if you could call it that.

Knox rolled his eyes, and said, "Wonderful. So, who's the escapee?"

"Thann Von Strauss."

**To be continued...**


	24. Crossing Unexpected Paths

_**CHAPTER 24 - "CROSSING UNEXPECTED PATHS"**_

In a clear night sky, a crescent moon illuminated the grounds to the Phantomhive family grave plot - a place were so many people were presently gathered, humans and Reapers alike. And one very powerful Fallen Reaper named Mathu Kelvin, once a human, now possessed by a Fallen Reaper, conjoined with a fellow Reaper, who had been his wife in the _Reaperdem_, but now adding to his abilities and powers, turning Mathu Kelvin into his own personal lightning rod of destruction generated by internal raw electricity.

But at the moment, he had generated down, and was knelt over Sebastian Michaelis, who himself was still unconscious and laying in the dirt in front of the Phantomhive crypt dedicated to Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive, for which Mathu had partially destroyed to get at the company now standing afar. Kelvin had a hand on the demon butler's forehead, his eyes closed, watching Sebastian's dreams.

"He's distracted - should we jump him, Master?" Finny said quietly into Ciel's ear.

Ciel took offense to having the gardener's breath in his ear, but he didn't mention it. "Are you daff? He's a powerful _being_, one touch by him and you'll be turned to ash even in this peaceful state."

"I wonder what he's seeing," Lukas said. "I, too, would like to know Sebastian's history." He stepped forward, and asked, "Tell us what you are witnessing? If we are to die soon, I will like to know - "

"Quiet!" Mathu Kelvin chided him, still with his eyes closed. "It's getting good. And if you come any closer, I will fry you like an egg. And tell your gardener he can cease with his bravado."

This time Ciel stepped forward, his hands pressed firmly on his hips. "No one chides my staff but me. You _will_ tell us what you are seeing, or I will you regret your actions here."

Mathu Kelvin slowly opened his eyes and looked at Ciel with a stern look. "You know, kid, you are really starting to get annoying. Back _off_!" And with a jerk of his head and use of telepathic power, Ciel was sent flying backwards into the others, knocking them all down like bowling pins.

Moans and groans were heard all around as Ciel felt the back of his head. But his impact wasn't as traumatic as Lukas's, who at the last moment, stepped in to attempt to catch him, and was squashed between Ciel and the others. Ciel lay on his brother who appeared severely dazed. Even without opening his eyes, Lukas asked, "Are you okay, brother?" softly and weakly.

"I should be asking you that question," Ciel said, getting to his feet. He then helped Lukas to his. Lukas was wobbly on his feet, but soon managed to stand straight. "Thank you for your sacrifice." He then asked the others if they were all right. They responded with a series of _yes's_ and _will be's_. All except the two Reapers, who had winked out before the impact, and now had winked back in. "You could have prevented it," he said to Grell and Salem collectively, disappointed in their cowardice against Mathu Kelvin.

"My lord, he has done nothing to override Reaper policy to attack him," Salem, the Undertaker, said. "We can't interfere."

Grell Sutcliffe, at least had more bravado. "If I had my modified Deathscythe, I'd teach him a thing or two about respect," he said, growling angrily. "If he hurts my sweet Bassy, I'll _kill'em_!"

"And then you'll _become_ a Fallen Reaper, Grell," Salem said. "And with the new policies implemented on suppressing FR powers before they are sent to wander aimlessly for all eternity, you'll be helpless."

Grell's shoulder's slumped. "Yes, you're right. By the by, shouldn't William's new Reaper X taskforce be here to take this guy out? They are in charge of hunting down Fallen Reapers after the incident months back, are they not? I thought they'd be here, as this guy is a very powerful one."

"There are thousands of banished Fallen Reapers _wandering_, Grell, they are very busy," Salem said. "But I am sure William is watching events unfold, and if deemed necessary, he will intercede."

"You two are still cowards," Ciel stated.

"If you are all quite finished blathering," Mathu Kelvin said, "I will go back and watch history unfold inside Sebastian's mind, if you don't mind?" he ended sarcastically.

And he did so.

* * *

Damascus felt comforting, radiating waves of heat penetrating different parts of his body, and for a split moment he thought he was back in Hell, that one of his brethren had seen what Decco had done to him and rescued him. But when he opened his eyes, he found he was covered from the neck down in layers of blankets and underneath, close to his body, he could feel heated coal pans beneath the covers, from which where the heat was coming from.

He could hardly move his body, his muscles so atrophied from lack of use from being up on that cross for so long - recalling day and night, he would have to say at least seven days - but he could still feel them, that someone had not amputated them due to their injuries. He could feel the aches of the spikes that had been nailed into his feet and wrists and feel wrappings around almost his entire body, including his midsection and pelvis, and head. Decco had not only nailed him up on the cross, but had also beaten him.

Looking around, he found himself in a lavish looking bedchamber with white wallpaper and a long stand-up mirror on the wall as he looked down the bed. He thought he was dreaming. But then he recalled that _he had been dreaming_ and about a beautiful, young woman, who had been _dreaming_ about him; she had a special gift. And he remembered calling out to her. He had used a great deal of his remaining powers to reach out and find someone who could help him, and found her. So, why was he still alive? Why hadn't he crumbled to dust and ash, using his power _just _to call her? Then it occurred to him, the heat was fueling him. They probably thought he was cold on the cross and was not attempting to regulate his body temperature.

But he had no set body temperature. He was a demon. He enjoyed it more when it was warm, but cold didn't bother him. Decco and his two allies had tried to murder him, thinking no one would find him, placing him a location far from civilization on that cross. But they had not expected that that woman with her special gift; _he _had not expected that that woman with her special gift, and thanks to her, he was still alive.

He also found it strange _how_ he had been removed from the cross. The spikes had been infused with demonic power and could not be removed normally. Thus, someone had to have a power to nullify demon energy to remove them. And he was curious of this woman, whom, despite their _special connection_, he had not actually seen her face, but who also had the ability to uncast a demon spell? If so, then he would like to meet her and thank her personally, and see if she had any other abilities…

The door to the bedchambers opened and a stunning looking woman with long, auburn hair and green eyes, stepped in, carrying a tray of food. She also wore a long, light, pinkish dress. He watched her as she set it on a rolling wooden trolley at the edge of the bed. Then her eyes shot up and she looked at him, as if sensing his wakeful presence. She smiled, "Oh, you're finally awake. I am so glad."

"Not to sound ungrateful, but who are you and how did I get here?" Damascus asked.

"That's all right, it is to be expected," she said kindly. "My name is Kassandra Smythe, and you are in my brother and his wife's home, where I live, as well as my father - for the time being. We found you nailed to a cross on the other side of the forest. It took us some effort to remove you, but Bryan, the manservant did most of the work. He then removed those nasty, iron spikes from your body."

"_He_ removed them?"

"Yes, but with some effort. They were too much for me, but I did try to help. He also carried you here. Where you are now is the visitor's quarters, it is small but adequate. And forgive the indignity of redressing you, however little you had on - that loincloth - but I had to dress your wounds. Who put you up on that cross?"

He wanted to say _Enemies_, but said instead, "I don't remember," lying. "I am a simple wanderer roaming through the outskirts of London and the countryside." That was at least a half-truth. "Some men jumped me, did this to me, and nailed me to this cross, as if to ward off evil spirits that plagued London with the fire. _The Beast_. But I did not get a good look at their faces, it was very dark at the time and they hit me from behind."

"Oh dear," she said, but there was something in her expression that told him she was not entirely believing him. "They say lairs and blasphemers have a special place in Hell."

"Pardon?"

"Never mind," she said with a smile that looked fake, "forget I said anything. Here, I have brought you nourishment to help you regain your strength. Chicken soup with vegetable bits, and water." She rolled the trolley to the side of the bed, and then helped him to sit up. Then she took out a separate, smaller tray, unfolded two bottom legs and placed in his lap, placing the food within.

This was human food, he had lost his need for it a long time ago, but he partook in it nevertheless, sipping the soup with a spoon. It was very tasty, filling his body with inner warmth. Demons needed nourishment, but human souls _was_ that nourishment, and he was very hungry. But he was grateful for his self-discipline in years prior in hindering his demon carnal desires. However, that was when he had soul energy to spare. Decco had removed nearly all the souls he had devoured over the last two thousand years and left him with a near empty well. And he found himself attempting to reach into that well and sip very conservatively to keep himself going. He was not a "good demon" as Decco had taunted him, but he knew the appreciation of kindness, and had learned it well with Master Belial. And he told himself, he would not harm these people for their kindness. At least, not unless he got really desperate to save his own existence.

But he would wait and see if it came to that.

"So, do you remember your name?"

Damascus smiled thinly. "Now you're being facetious," he said. "I could tell you a lie, but I would imagine you'd see straight through me. You seem to have a power for filtering out the truth from words, a special gift. So, I will not lie and tell you my name is Damascus, Son of Baraccus." He had no surname, as human's nowadays had. Ancient Rome citizens often used one name, but some had longer names - most Emperor's did - but no surname to speak of. So, he was being truthful in this instance. But he suddenly saw her frozen in place aghast, her hand to her mouth, as if he had said something wrong. "What is the matter?"

She shook her head. "It is nothing. I thought, by your words, you were - "

"I am man, looking at an extremely beautiful woman," he said, as if distracting her from what he knew she may be sensing from him - that he was the one who _called _her. But for as long as he could, he would attempt to suppress that _feeling_.

She blushed.

He smiled, nodding. It wasn't a lie. He found her shockingly beautiful, like a goddess - comparatively to Athena or Aphrodite, in Greek myth lore. He didn't know whether it was just her outer beauty or from what he had experienced from her _inner_ self, when they were together with their _special connection_ - which he sensed _she_ was uncertain of at the moment - but was this what human's meant by "love at first sight"?

"Thank you," she said. "You are very handsome," as if to repay the complement. "But you must rest. Conserve your energy. It will take time for your wounds to heal. If you care to, I will ask Bryan to bring in a wheel-chair if you wish to go outside. The weather is nice. It is fall season, but the temperature is still warm."

"I may do that."

She then left, and he was again alone. But he felt a strange power either in this house or within the grounds surrounding it, unlike he had ever felt before. It was stronger than a demon's and yet it was not coming from Kassandra. Her special gift was strong, but not as highly generating as this power. It felt like it had been cultivated over years, and the _being_ had only begun to attempt to keep it buried. Only someone like him could sense it. So, perhaps, this _being_ had not needed to keep it buried until he had come and was only doing so now?

But he would deal with it later. He partook in finishing off the soup, and concentrated on healing his wounds. And indeed, from the serenity outside his window, the weather did look inviting. For a human. Perhaps, later, he _would_ take Kassandra's offer and call on the manservant to take him outside.

_Bryan_.

* * *

For the next couple of days he was bed ridden, but on the fifth day, Bryan assisted him into a wheel-chair and escorted him outside to enjoy a warm autumn day. The leaves on the trees were beginning to fall and soon Bryan, as Damascus was told, would be ankle deep in racking the surrounding house clean. He was indeed a very hard worker and trustworthy, and for a time, he thought he was mistake in suspecting Bryan of being more than he claimed to be. He was nice all the time and appeared to enjoy serving the family, and his _feeling_ of Bryan was nothing but honest sincerity from the young manservant.

There was a gazebo in the back courtyard with other chairs and furniture spread throughout. William and his wife were conversing happily with William's father, Alphonsus, and the sound of laughter was heard as his father told him a whimsical story. Kassandra had been sitting in a chair near-by reading a book when she saw him and Bryan exit the back vestibule and out onto the back stone patio.

She came up to them and smiled. "I am so glad you decided to join us, Damascus. Please, Bryan, will you wheel Damascus over to the others?" Bryan nodded, and did so. And they seemed happy to see him. Damascus was dressed in a loose fitting shirt and pants and slippers because of his wounds. Bryan had done so, so they would not press again them. But Damascus could only wonder as Bryan couldn't talk.

"Hello," Damascus said in happy greeting. "Again, allow me to thank you for your generosity for accepting me into your home under the circumstances. I hope I am not _too much _of a burden?" Bryan then left his side and began to fill empty glasses of lemonade from a pitcher on a near-by table.

"Not at all, Damascus," Beautieuse said. "Besides, Kassandra and Bryan have been taking care of you more so than anyone. And I believe Kassandra has an alterative motive." She winked.

"_Beautieuse_!" Kassandra said, she began to blush. "You have the wrong idea."

She laughed. "I am only joking, Kassandra. Besides, with his wounds, I doubt highly he will be in any condition to do something of _that_ caliber any time soon."

Damascus repressed a smile, but saw how red Kassandra's face had become.

"Is she always that forward?" Alphonsus asked William.

"Always. She asked _me_ to marry _her_, remember?"

"Whose talking behind my back?" she asked jokingly.

William waved his hands up in submission. "Not us, my dear wife," he said smiling.

"We are only friends," Damascus said. "I assure you, nothing of the like will occur." Suddenly, he felt a sadness from Kassandra, as if his words had just stabbed into her heart like a knife. She had been taking care of him, visiting him, more than Bryan, bringing him food and blankets of her own accord. And often she just sat and talked with him, telling him of her childhood and of her dreams. In turn, he did as well. But he was careful of what he said, telling her about some of the people he had met in his journey's as a wanderer, but making sure to change certain names so not to give away just how old he really was, despite looking _her_ age: twenty-three. Even though he was nearly two thousand years old, he had made sure to age gracefully. Although, with his demonic powers, he could become anyone, be young or old, or be anything, but he was thankful at the moment that he had decided to stay young, without obtaining _soul nourishment_.

"Damascus, Damascus, Damascus…" Beautieuse said, as if trying to recall something, "like the city in the Bible, that was destroyed long ago by the Assyrians, according to the Book of Isaiah. I have been trying to remember where I had heard that name before for the last four days."

"You should have just asked, dear," William said. "My sister is verse in every passage and psalm. She could tell you biblical stories for hours."

"It sounds like you find my telling of stories boring, brother," Kassandra said.

"Not at all," William said.

"_And the third angel followed them, saying with a loud voice, If any man worship the beast and his image, then receive his Mark in his forehead, or in his hand. The same shall drink of the wine of the wrath of God, which is poured out without mixture into the cup of his indignation; and he shall be tormented with fire and brimstone in the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence of the Lamb: And the smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever and ever: and they have no rest day nor night, who worship the beast and his image, and whosoever receiveth the Mark of his name. Here is the patience of the saints: here are they that keep the commandments of God, and the faith of Jesus."_

Everyone looked at Damascus after he recited a Biblical passage. Bryan had been so focused as well that he over-filled a glass and lemonade spilled over the top onto the table and to the grass below. He immediately began cleaning it up with a towel.

In being a demon, he thought I was best to learn a great deal about his "rivals", memorize the information, just in case it came in useful in the future.

He didn't care for religion as such, but it appeared Kassandra and his family were heart-felt Christians who believed whole-heartedly in God, and he felt a quote was suitable at the moment, and believed he had chosen correctly, considering the fire in London and how a good fearing Christian women and her father managed to survive it, necessarily be untouched by it, and then managed to be welcomed into her brother's home away from the residing chaos of the aftermath, and then also have her brother and father's estranged relationship be mended after years of strife.

They said God worked in mysterious ways.

"Book of Revelations; chapter fourteen: nine through twelve, if I recall," he then said. "I have been thinking about how you were spared the chaos many of London's citizens experienced, how your Boarding House was not even touched by flame, and how now you are safe here. And I believe your faith in God helped you, and how, perhaps, it lead you to me, whereas I may have perished among the elements. Thank you."

"Oh, Damascus," he heard Kassandra say softly.

"Damascus, you are quite welcome, and you can stay as long as you like," Beautieuse said. William agreed.

Bryan was bent down dabbling up the lemonade from the grass between his master's chairs, but for some reason, and none of the others saw it, looked directly at Damascus with a straight stare. Damascus met his gaze. Why was he looking at him that way? Something about Bryan did not _feel_ right to him.

Suddenly, Bryan perked up his head, as if he heard something, like an animal hearing a sound out of the range of others. It was probably due to his extra-sensory perception, where when one aspect of the natural workings of a human body didn't work other areas were enhanced. Bryan couldn't talk, so his other senses were probably enhanced. It was then Damascus heard the faint clopping of horse hoffs and a carriage riding behind. Someone had just arrived at the house.

Bryan then stood up, and gave a series of hand gestures to William, for which William understood. Then he left, as if to attend to the situation, probably to greet them as he was the manservant of the house.

"Ah," William breathed. "I almost forget. I invited some very close friends today. I wrote them a letter and they agreed to come for a visit. Damascus, my friend, Miles, has also had some interesting adventures in his time and in later years struck it rich in finding a gold mine, then he married had settled down, building a strikingly large home with his own hands. I am sure he has some equally stunning tales like yourself, similar to what you tell to my sister. I think you and he will get on swimmingly."

Damascus wished he could walk, but Kassandra was kind enough to stay with him as William and Beautieuse left to welcome their guests. A few minutes later, they returned back to the back courtyard with their guests in tow: a tall, smart looking man with his wife and a small boy, about age five. Unfortunately, his injuries prevented him from standing to greet them as a proper gentleman should do.

"Damascus, may I present Miles and Mary Phantomhive, and their son Tristan," William said. "Miles, Mary, this is Damascus, a young man my sister and our manservant plucked from certain death."

"Greetings, forgive me for not standing," Damascus said. "My injuries prevent it."

"It is quite all right, young man. Certain death? What happen to you, may I ask?" Miles asked.

"I was crucified."

**To be continued…**


	25. The Curse Of The Damned

_**CHAPTER 25 - "THE CURSE OF THE DAMNED"**_

It was remarkable the twists and turns life has for someone, Thann Von Strauss thought. One moment, a person can be on top of the world, and the next, they are dead - killed by a sibling, driven by their inner hate for transgressions done against him, by his own family. He never understood it until now that he was dead, a wandering spirit, just how psychologically damaging words and actions could form the psyche of an individual and then make him snap at a moment's notice when the opportunity arose.

And he had driven his brother mad with hatred towards him for things he had done to Spencer throughout his life. Then he had kidnapped Spencer and took him to that sadistic demon. And now Spencer was just like him, and under the guise of Decco's influence.

But partial fault was on his father, Erich Von Strauss, for demanding retribution on his own son for betraying the Illuminati, by feeding First Inspector Frederick Abberline information that Spencer thought would eventually lead Scotland Yard to bringing the Illuminati down.

But that was only a dream, fancy. Because nothing was more powerful than the Illuminati. They were everywhere, in every city, in city town, on every continent, and most of the time, you wouldn't even know it. They hid in political fronts, social circles, and ran the financial world through the threat and manipulation of others within these circles. You see, knowledge was power, and with some of the most knowledgeable men on the planet within the Illuminati, there was nothing hidden from them.

This is what drove Thann Von Strauss to be their envoy in England, because eventually he thought he would rise to be one of the elite and be a dominate force within their circle of friends. But not any longer. That dream was dead - like him. But as a ghost, he knew he could still make a different. He could turn the tides and rescue his brother, and thus, he escaped from…some sort of _spirit processing centre_?

He had been in a line with countless other spirits. The "room" was very large, completely white, and looked like a bank with tellers, and he told this was only the "check-in", told to him by a reception area before that. The reception desk was manned by a large individual who had the appearance of a Titan from Greek mythos, or a massive body builder, who continuously strived to strengthen himself like Atlas. While waiting in this line, he heard many different languages being spoken, most of which he couldn't fathom understanding, but some were French, Italian _and_ English, and they were all asked the same question: "How did you die?" When it was his turn, he couldn't bare to speak his embarrassing death, so he merely said, "Blood lose." But from where his blood lose occurred, it wasn't difficult to see the cause.

_I literally drowned in my own blood from my brother biting off my penis._

The man merely waved him to another door, to which he then found himself at the back of a very long line of other spirits in a Processing Centre. Was this was death was like or was he dreaming? he thought. There was absolutely no way he was going to wait for what would be like an eternity in this snake of a line.

So he slipped away, out of the Processing Centre. It was, in fact, quite easy and he had no resistance. There were no guards, no enforcement, no watchmen of any kind. And no where did he see that strange man in the black suit and two-tone hair and glasses that had brought him here.

_What did he say he was…a Reaper? A supernatural "death being"_ -_ go-between the living and dead?_

He remembered what he had done when he first realized he was dead. He cried and begged the "man" to restore him back to life, to give him a second chance, so he could make amends for his evil transgressions in life, especially towards his little brother, whom if it wasn't for him, Spencer would not have been seduced by a demon and then became his minion. And Thann was very apologetic. But the man would not relent in his duties, and refused.

"_You blew it buddy,_" he had said to him. "_Everyone dies. How and when - who knows?_ _I'm just here to collect your soul and take it to be processed. Then the Decisioners will dicide where you go, and from your life record -_" he looked in a file folder he held in his hand,_ "- it doesn't look good._"

It was then the man showed him what he called a "cinematic record" of his life. It started at his birth, spanned through his childhood years, his teenage years, and his young adulthood, up until his death - and how he died. His horrible, disgusting, and shameful death. He couldn't believe that he had demanded Spencer "service" him, knowing of his brother's _gay_ relationship with his friend Trent Banes. His brother was a _poof_, and this was looked down about in every social circle. It was like you had a mental illness.

And yet, _he_ had the same "illness", and had, on occasion engaged in homoerotic coitus with men, as well as woman, and mostly in Illuminati ceremonies. And what he regretted just as much was murdering his own sister, Krystal, during an Illuminati ceremony, directed by his very own father. With fresh, family blood, he said that it would draw a demon to them, so the Illuminati could learn _secrets of the ages_. But it had failed, and Krystal died for nothing. At the time, he felt it had been his duty, and what he did didn't bother him - which it should have. She was his flesh and blood and he had committed murder, the most hideous crime in the Bible, for which he wore a crucifix around his neck because he believed in God - but he was sick in the head, he knew that now. He was a sadistic bastard that deserved what he got and Spencer had been his executioner.

He would be willing to go to Hell for eternity, but he had to save his brother first from a living hell. He had to break the power Decco held over Spencer. Once he did that, he would gladly suffer for his transgressions. He had no misgivings towards his brother. Spencer was a good boy. No, that was not fair. He was a good _man_, even though he was only seventeen, and he could make his own decisions. But this, being a minion of a demon, was not his choice to make - it was forced upon him.

_And I am to blame._

He thought of his brother - and instantaneously he was taken to the front courtyard of the Von Strauss Manor. Was his will to find Spencer drawing him here? Was Spencer here at their home on the outskirts of London in the beautiful countryside?

He recalled the history of the grounds. At one point, a wealthy family owned and lived here, but then moved to a new location or simply sold the land for some unknown reason and build a large estate elsewhere. However, the name of this family was unknown - he only knew they had gained their fortune in a foreign gold mine, somewhere in Peru. The house was demolished. In later years, when his grandfather bought the land, and his father grew-up to amass his wealth and fortune, the Von Strauss Manor was built.

_But it all means nothing now._

As a disembodied spirit, he walked _through_ the front the door without solid contact and made his way into the vestibule hallway housing the main staircase. He felt a chill down his spine, not a physical one but a feeling of psychological nervousness about the manor. He felt a dark presence residing within and when he looked around, he found his family's butler laying dead in the library in a pool of his own blood, a deep wound in his chest. Someone had murdered him with brutal and malice intent.

And at that moment, he feared for his father.

He suddenly heard the bellowing screams of two men begging to be spared and it was coming from the Dining Hall. He didn't need to leave the Library to make his way there, but crossed through the wall - instantly bringing him to the next room, which was the Dining Hall. And here he found Spencer, and saw a horrific sight - the birth of some sort of grotesque looking creature that Spencer was summoning by chanting Latin script and using his demonic powers to create. And for an instant, he saw the faces of McDermott and Thibeau, who were two of the three of the main "felicitators" within the Illuminati. The third was his father. These men were being _blended_ together, _sifted_ together, to make a new _being_ of sorts, their grotesque screams filling the converted Dining Hall, that was now some sort of ceremonial chamber.

With Spencer, Wilhelm Lazarus, the head of the Illuminati English branch, was also in the room watching this horrific birthing - his own Illuminati associates being used in this demonic experiment. There was also a boy standing next to Lazarus. A boy about the age of ten with angelic blond hair -

_Oh my God, Lazarus - you succeeded in resurrecting Johnny? No, I think you didn't - it was that damn demon who did it! The scrolls didn't work, did they? So you agreed to whatever the demon promised you. I can see the covenant on your forehead, and I bet Johnny has one, too. You damn fool! You sold your soul to restore your boy's life?_ And yet, Spencer also had a similar covenant burned into his forehead. _I'm too late. Decco already has you. No doubt he promised you power, since your _felt_ powerless against me._

When the monster was complete, it stood floor to ceiling, widely and grotesquely muscular with veins bulging out in every part of his body, pulsing as if they were sentient beyond the monster. It's skin was a blood rust color with black swirls and streaks of encompassing its anatomically, acute, bare frame. The one thing the monster was missing was a genitals. It was a eunuch. As for its head, or rather its pair of heads, they were connected together with some sort of thick, stretched skin, umbilical strain. Their vision: one large eye in each head, were housed behind surgical, thin threads of dark colored skin like jail bars. And it had no mouth to speak of. Decco then waved an arm and a large, circular covenant with symbols and Latin script writing was branded, burned, into its chest, probably placed so he could control it.

_You stupid fool, Spencer. You created a monster for this maniac! Why?_

"I'm _very_ impressed, Spencer. You have outdone yourself," Decco said, looking upon the monster. His eyes appeared to be gazing upon magnificent, ultimate power. And indeed, this monster was just that.

"Thank you, Master. I am pleased you like him," Spencer said somewhat _too_ proudly.

_Master? You _willfully_ accepted into a covenant with this demon? _Thann knew his brother had an grand imagination, beyond some of the greatest thinkers he knew. The vehicle he and his friend Trent created was proof of this. If the Von Strauss family had not been involved with the Illuminati, he knew Spencer could have been a great novelist like Jules Verne or an artist, sketching designs for buildings that would adore the English landscape. But now, under the influence of this demon, neither could ever be.

"I call him _Epimetheus_, after the Titan brother of Prometheus," Spencer continued. "He is strong, but like his two components, he is foolish and easily manipulated. You should have no difficulty sending him against your enemies. Also, those black swirls and streaks are actually shadows."

"Shadows?"

"Dark shadows," Spencer said. "They can detach from the body when ordered and can be used to engulf an opponent in complete blackness, sucking every ounce of energy from him. Once returned to the body, the energy is then used to increase _Epimetheus's_ own strength." Decco nodded intrigued. "Furthermore - "

"There is more? My, you do have a vivid imagination, don't you?"

"I would hope so," Spencer said. "I wish returned what is mine."

_What is mine?_

Decco chuckled. "And yet, look at your monster. He has none either."

_None either?_

Spencer checked his throat, obviously not humored by an interior joke…

"As I was saying…"

Thann was awestruck at the Goliath-sized monster Spencer had just created through his imagination and demonic powers. He used, without scientific endeavor, what doctors would call gene manipulation. It was a relatively new science, but one where even the many influential scientists and doctors of the day, despite it being against God's will, said will revolutionize the scientific world one day. But Thann agreed: "This is raping the natural world," he murmured. But suddenly regretted that he had spoken out loud.

Decco sharply put up a hand to silence Spencer. Then he looked in Thann's direction. And Thann could swear the demon was looking directly at him and seemed to for several _long_ seconds. His red eyes glowered and he then looked around the same area, as if surveying it, where Thann was standing. Spencer also turned, following Decco's gaze, but his eyes darted haphazardly unable to see what Decco had apparently thought he had heard. But Thann remained on the spot. _Can you see me, demon?_

"What is it, Master?" Lazarus asked.

"A wandering spirit," Johnny Lazarus spoke and pointed at Thann. "Over there, near the wall."

Decco waved an arm in the area of the wall and suddenly Thann's spirit solidified, or rather became visual to the normal eye. Thann looked himself over, saw the blood stains on the front of his clothing. The eternal blood stains. They looked as red and as flesh like on his real body.

"Very good, my lad," Decco said, pleased. "You saw him, even though I could not. Your time in the underworld must have given you the power to see the dead. And interesting and unexpected gift."

Lazarus looked at his son. "Johnny, you can see the dead?" he asked.

"Yes father, I can. But apart from us, and him, I have not seen many. But there are a _few_ wandering spirits in the area. I saw them when we came here by coach. They are harmless, however. Like _him_."

Decco chuckled. "Harmless indeed," he said.

"Thann?" Spencer said. "Is that really _you_?"

"Yes, Spencer, it is. And you are all fool for joining him!" He sharply looked at Decco. "Let Spencer go, let him live a normal life, the one he should be living, without the torment I caused him in life, without the threat of the Illuminati, without the shame he felt for his sexuality and hiding it." Thann felt his face fold in utter apologetic sadness. "I am sorry, Spencer, for what I did to you, especially on that last day…"

"Thann…"

Decco looked thoughtful, closed fist on his mouth. Then said, "A trade-off? An interesting proposal." The demon eyed Spencer who looked downcast and saddened. Decco smiled. "Unfortunately, that isn't possible. It is too late for your little brother, Thann Von Strauss. He is mine. And with your sudden relevance in seeking forgiveness to restore yourself in God's good graces - which you never were, not after everything you did in life - you would be useless to my cause. Your brother is a perfect minion, and for good reason. But you do have my curiosity. How did you escape the Reapers?"

"That is my secret," Thann said angrily.

Decco shrugged, his arms up. "Very well. It matters not to me."

"Thann, I murdered father!" Spencer suddenly shouted out with tears in his eyes. "Decco was controlling me. Father tried to save me, but he failed. I bit into father neck and blood filled out onto the floor of the Illuminati audience hall. Then we brought McDermott and Thibeau back here and I transformed them into this…_thing_! I'm so sorry, Thann." And he collapsed to his knees. "I am destined for Hell." And he cried.

Thann was aghast, but now he knew the fate of his father.

He shook his head. "It's not your fault, Spencer. It's _his_! If you wish to blame anyone for all this, it is that damned demon!"

"How ironic," Decco said, chuckling. "You murdered your sister, spilled her blood, all to summon a demon - and yet, here I am. Now you do not want me around? What did you expect? Did you think you, your father and the Illuminati could instantly control a demon? You assume too much, even with spells. Which, I may add, are thousands of years out of date and can be quickly counteracted. The Inner Circle fell to this trap and were slaughtered when Sebastian Michealis entered the fray. The only true way to 'control' a demon is to broker into a covenant with them, and even then, the covenant can be summarily broken at any time, granted there is grounds or there is a violation from the human. The covenant's I have with _them_ are different." He pointed to Spencer, Lazarus and Johnny. "They live under my ruling hand. I _could_ kill them at any time, but they chose to serve me because of the power I grant them. The covenant Sebastian Michealis and Ciel Phantomhive have is different. Sebastian Michealis agrees to serve the boy and murder and kill all those who did his family wrong for Ciel's Phantomhive's soul. He's playing with him, you see."

"Sebastian Michealis is a demon?" Thann said, but then folded his arms across his chest.

"You mean, you didn't know?" Decco said quickly, then snorted annoyed. "Trickster human."

"Of course we knew. That is why some of us were so adamant in trying to protect certain secrets from getting out, demons can be very vicious and destructive to keep their identities secret in the human world, and First Inspector Abberline's investigation was getting too involved, and we knew soon he would make a discovery that would threaten everything. Lukas Phantomhive's history was a completely separate matter, for which through you, Spencer, he began investigating and came across Bryon Kelvin's name - who is, in fact, and we know this, the child kidnapper of London. If Scotland Yard got hold of him, the names and reputations of some of the most prominent men and women and England's society would be smeared and that could destroy the very fabric of many political, economic and social institutions. _We_, meaning the Illuminati, wanted to find him and punish him, and keep him silent. He knows the names of too many people.

"I didn't know that Decco would turn you into _this_…" he said to Spencer. "I didn't know he was even going to be there. I only wanted to scare you. Father wanted to punish you severely for what you almost did, and for allowing the inspector to escape, but I wanted to think of another way other than what _he_ suggested. Father was a bastard, and honestly, regardless of his final actions, I am glad he is dead."

Spencer slumped his shoulders. "And I was the one threatening that secret with feeding information to Detective Abberline, hoping to expose the Illuminati and their horrible secrets. I was being selfish, not thinking about _other_ consequences that would befall." But then he gazed hard with a stern look in his eyes. "And to punish you, dear brother, for murdering _our_ sister. I tried to bring justice to Krystal, and then misfortunate unfolded, and now look at us…we have become the damned!" He stood up and then dropped his pants, exposing the bareness below. "I am a eunuch, brother! Decco made me into a eunuch because of my _untimely_ sexuality desires. I will never be a man - or _human_ - again!"

"Oh my God!"

"God?" Decco laughed. "God can't help you now. You two have spent your lives thinking with the wrong head, my friends. Now you can both be dickless hypocrites together."

* * *

The trick to tracking down a _Poltergeist_, for which Thann Von Strauss was not categorized as for escaping the Processing Centre inside Reaper Headquarters, was that they normally followed a set pattern; their mind was atypical and simplistic in their thinking. Namely, spirits often went back to the last place they died as if to seek reflection of their life, to obtain retrospective or something - to weep and to wonder how things could have gone differently. The problem with that is if they get too emotional, they could do what's known as "looping", and start to replay the last moments of their life just to live again. Thus, they would get trapped, unless they could come to terms that nothing can be done and accept their death. If not, they will repeat their demise over and over and over again in an unless cycle of wallowing, emotional torment.

Ronald Knox had some cases like this. Most of them were easy captures, but in one instance, one of them got very violent with him. So it attacked him with surprising powers that could only come supernaturally and from pent up hatred and anger. On this particular mission, he also discovered the secret to a baffling mystery that plagued humans at that time, but being a Reaper, he couldn't tell them.

He recalled this time:

He was ordered to retrieve seven ghosts from a "ghost ship" abandoned, a floating merchant brigantine ship called the _Mary Celeste_, that went missing, according to English-American authorities in 1872. It was in fact, attacked by a sinister ghost wishing to retrieve an item _it_ had lost on board just before it set sail, who had been a supply loader. This ghost had been murdered in a tavern bar fight two days after it ship sailed.

Drunk and confrontational, the man: Henry Baggs, a young man in his late twenties, because he had lost an item very valuable to him, wanted to blow off some steam, but chose to pick a fight with a stranger twice his size. His opponent was incredibly strong, and during the bar fight, the man snapped Henry's neck when he was thrown against a wall very hard. Henry had died almost instantly.

The item was apparently a locket his girlfriend had given him with her picture inside, and as a human he didn't know where he had lost it, but as a ghost, he _had_ remembered, and traveled across the ocean and found the _Mary Celeste_, on its peaceful, serene voyage towards the Straits of Gibraltar. From what Henry Baggs told him when first Knox arrived on the ship to collect the souls and finding him, Baggs said once he found his locket he would and stay with it and that would be it. Unfortunately, one of the crew members hadfound it and replaced the picture with another picture, one of his _own_ girlfriend, and Henry went ballistic, and went on a bloody rampage, attacking them, throwing all the crew members overboard. However, as the ship was the last place they were alive, they remained on it as ghosts.

One month after the _incident_, he was ordered to collect the souls of these poor, unfortunately people, now trapped on their ship, and encountered Henry Baggs. At first, he was very calm and apologetic for what he had done and he, too, was trapped, hoping for a way off with the other seven others, who were scared of him for what Henry had done. He stayed onboard, not necessarily by what he had done, but by the attachment of his girlfriend's locket, for which he felt he needed to protect from the others.

After the entire story was laid out, unfortunately nothing could be done. The locket would have to stay, but all the spirits would have to leave. This is when Henry Baggs became violent and attacked Knox with forthright malice and supernatural hatred. He had never encountered such a powerful spirit filled with so much hatred, anger and bitterness. In was only with the collectively help of the other seven, did he manage to overpower Henry Baggs and suck him up into his Deathscythe for transport.

After that, he also escorted the others away and off the ship.

Standing in the same circular, black painted room, he had retrieved Thann Von Strauss's spirit originally from, he wondered if he had returned here. Apart from the man's body, Knox did not feel his return. This is where the young man had died, and if he returned here, Knox would _feel_ it. But if he was not here, where was he? A bulletin was put out in _Reaperdem_ if anyone saw him, and if someone had, he would be notified. But as of this moment, Thann Von Strauss was truly missing. And he hated _Wanderers_ could refused to play by the rules and sought to hide. This would make his job a whole lot harder, and after working a seven-two hour shift and then being forced to search for an escapee - one of _his_ retrieved souls who decided (and it had never happened before) to flee the Processing Centre - he wasn't in the best of moods.

William was ordering an investigation into who allowed Thann Von Strauss to escape, but if it was like everything else in Reaper Affairs, the paper work will be piled a mile high and will be in triplicate. The good thing was, Knox had done _his_ job and would not get blamed for it. The bad thing was, he had to clean up _someone else's_ mistake - and that made him in a doubly rotten mood.

After searching a few more "hot spots", which took next to no time at all, he finally winked in in front of the Von Strauss Manor. This was the last place he thought he would need to look. If Thann Von Strauss wasn't here, he'd return to William and tell him to send out a Reaper X team to find him. But they were already busy enough with hunting down Fallen Reapers and wouldn't have time. He knew William would just order him to keep looking. So, there was no point in any of that. He just hoped this rogue_ Wanderer_ was here.

Knox suddenly got a nasty chill down his spine as he stood outside in the front courtyard. He could feel a dark and sinister power here. Something very _evil_ was inside.

**To be continued…**


	26. Lovebirds

_**CHAPTER 26 - "LOVEBIRDS"**_

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months and even into the following year when Spring rolled along in the year AD1667, Damascus found himself still in the stages of a long drawn out healing. Without his souls that Decco had taken from him, his healing was very slow, much like a human's, especially with his severe injuries that would have killed a human very quickly.

But he found himself helping Kassandra, and Bryan, in London's effort to rebuild itself and it was of itself therapeutic. Kassandra particularly took interest in orphaned children who had been displaced, and with William's new wealth, a new orphanage was being built for them with state of the art facilities. The entire city of London as a community tore down old buildings and began to erect new, more sturdier ones, that were better resistant to fires. Even plans to rebuild Saint Paul's Cathedral's were discussed.

Over the last year, he found himself being more at Kassandra's side. But he had suspicions of a _being_ still looming about the family. He not necessarily suspected Bryan any longer, but there was still something _different_ about him that Damascus could not explain.

The power he had first sensed had faded to a small spec now. It meant that this _being_ was becoming more acute in hiding his power. However, he sensed no malicious intent by this power. And perhaps he was wrong about Bryan. If Bryan was hiding something, he would have known Damascus sensed it and attacked him by now to keep his secret, but the young manservant was always kind to him.

But there was _something_…

Despite Kassandra saying that she and her father had plans to live with her brother _only_ temporarily, it appeared her new home was with him and his wife, and her father was very happy about that, too. And even after Damascus's wounds had healed, they wanted him to continue to remain with the family. He was very thankful for their hospitality and accepted, if only to continue to be with Kassandra, and to further advance the very close relationship they shared.

Damascus didn't think it was possible, but over the past year he had fallen in love with Kassandra, and she felt the same way about him. But neither expressed it openly. And after a year of taking care of him, helping him to walk again because he could not put pressure on his feet because of his wounds, his muscles atrophied with so much time spent in the wheel chair, it was like destiny had brought them together.

But, with each passing day, his hunger rose, and he continued to dwell deeper into his _well of souls_, drawing out what little energy that was there to keep his demon urges at bay.

But it was like pain. If you are distracted enough, you forget about it. And with Kassandra, a different sort of hungry also rose inside him. It was a human hunger and it directed towards her.

His human carnal desires sometimes eclipsed his demon ones and he found himself lusting for her as a human does another. But he was a gentleman and he knew the proper way to act in public. They spent a great deal of time together helping others in the city of London, they were thanked highly by the mayor for their efforts. So they never actually got any alone time, until now.

Kassandra had wanted to go back to her own Boarding House for a visit, to see how things were going, but when they got there, they found that the building had been boarded up and abandoned. Nevertheless, they had come all this way, and he was not going to let her go home empty-handed. So he pulled at one of the nailed boards from the front entrance and ripped it off, using his muscular upper body strength that he had developed in having to use his arms to move around in a wheel-chair all those months. After he was able to walk again, he began to train his body to use all his muscles equally and properly again.

He set aside the board, then pulled a second one off. The street was nearly abandoned, so no one was going to accuse them of trespassing. Besides, all they wanted was to have a look inside. Damascus hoped - although it didn't look like it - that there were no squatters inside. But if there were and they were aggressive of their homestead, he would protect Kassandra. Simple.

"What a big, _strong_ man," she teased.

He smiled, then gestured at the opening. "After you, my _lovely_ lady."

She blushed, and then passed him into its dark housing. Damascus followed, striking a long thin, wooden wick, illuminating the way. With all the windows boarded up, it was indeed a dark and spooky place, and their shadows danced on the walls like demons. Damascus was amused by this imaginary, but he didn't make mention of it to Kassandra. She looked a little scared to be in here, but this had been her home for more years than she could vividly recall. Her father lived here and raised both her and William. When William was old enough, and subsequently had a major argument with his father, he moved out. Kassandra then became a maid, and her father a cleaner for the Boarding House as payment for their room and board and meals. Before the fire, rumors had it that it was one of the best and up-kept Boarding Houses. Now, by the look of things, perhaps it would have been better if the fire had destroyed it.

They made their way up the main staircase, Damascus following Kassandra's lead, as she knew her way around. "I feel a little guilty for leaving Mr. Ryan, the landlord," she said. "This was such a lovely place."

"It was for the best, Kassy," he said. He had taken to calling her Kassy, which at one point only her father did. But she obviously didn't mind him using it. "You are safer, and…we found each other."

She stopped, turned, and gave him a sweet smile. They were stopped on a landing, and as they were alone, he gently touched her cheek and then leaned in to kiss her. Although, they had not shown affection for one another in front of her family - it was not proper - it was obvious to them all, that they were together. William's wife, Beautieuse, had apparently figured out _something_ was going on during Damascus's first week he spent with the family, injured. He was indeed attracted to Kassy, _very_ attracted to her.

Kassy pulled back, and he was surprised by this. They had kissed many times before, and he wondered why she relented this time. Was he being too forward? It was said scary places sometimes increased a woman's sexual drive and stirred chemicals in the human brain to make them more subversive. But to take advantage of her here was not his intention. The moment had just struck him and he wanted to taste her soft, sensual lips in the glow of this low wicker light.

She smiled, and they kissed. She had only been teasing him.

Continuing up the staircase, they reached her room on the third floor. The room was cleared of most of the furniture, although some remained. Had the landlord attempted to rent out the room after Kassy and her father had left, Damascus wondered. The wick was coming to the end of its life, so he struck another one. He had brought several with them, but only enough for a maybe a few minutes.

Suddenly, something jumped out at them and landed on the floor. It hissed at them. It was a feral cat, grey in color, it's eyes glowering, reacting to the wicker light. But then it approached them friendly-like, and Damascus crouched down to pet it.

"Be careful, Damascus," Kassy said. "It could hold diseases."

But it didn't seem afraid of human interaction at all, curling it's body around Damascus, even purring as he began to scratch behind its ear. "Cats are such lovely creatures," he said affectionately. "If you are unafraid of them, they are unafraid of you." And suddenly he found himself completely obsessed with this cat as if the world around him meant nothing and all there was _was_ he and this feline. "Such a good cat…so supple, so cute, such beautiful, breezy fur…"

He felt a hand on his shoulder, and then Kassy said, "Um, Damascus…are you all right?"

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"You just met this cat, but you are reacting to it as if you have known it all its life, and very affectionately, I may add." She had a quire look on her face.

Her words struck true, and he blinked, and forced himself out his reverie, standing up.

He felt embarrassed. He found he got this way whenever he was near cats. They say cats are a demon's pet, but this wasn't why he liked them so much. And yet, he couldn't even define why he found himself obsessing over them sometimes. It was like some sort of hidden addiction.

He cleared his throat. The cat meowed for more affection from him, weaving in and out between his legs, nudging them and rubbing itself against his pant legs like an animal would do to mark its territory or showing deep affection for an owner.

He put an abashed hand to his face. "I am so sorry, I don't know what came over me," he said.

"It is all right," she said, looking at him. "We are all _weird_ in some way or fashion." He looked at her through the fingers of his hands, and she nodded. "Although I wish you would give me as much affection as you did that cat just now."

He dropped his hand and a wide smile broached his face. He stepped in, pulled her close to him, their bodies pressed together, and said, "Such a good Kassy. So supple, so cute, such beautiful, breezy fur…"

And she gave a soft chuckle.

She then laid her head against his chest. "I can hear your heart beat, it's very fast."

"That is because I am with you," he said gently, softly cupping her chin and bringing her face up to his. Her green eyes aglow in the wicker light. "And I have recently become filled with a hunger beyond the normal, and I have finally found a person I have fallen head-over-heels in love with after so much time alone."

"You do not have to be alone any longer, Damascus. I will be with you."

And they kissed.

"Well, aint this such a purdy sight," said a gruff sounding voice.

"Yeah, a couple of love birds in a nest, they are," said a second, younger voice.

Damascus and Kassy immediately turned to the voices and saw at a heavy set man in his late forties with a few days of beard growth, with a younger, thinner man wearing a dark rimless toque standing next to him at the threshold of the room. In the older man's hand was a long but thin piece of wood with the handle wrapped with a dark, worn tape, but also holstered on his hip was what looked like a sizable dagger. The thin man held nothing, but Damascus knew the man would have a weapon on his person somewhere. He was, however, smiling scandalously at Kassandra, eying her up and down.

Damascus immediately stood between them and Kassandra, taking a step back and pushing Kassy back. He wasn't afraid of them, but for Kassy's sake, he had to play the part.

"Aint he tryin to be the good, chivalrous knight," said the older man.

"I haven't had a rubdown in months."

"Me; it's been years. Not since a few years into the Russo war."

"If you weren't so burly, you would," the younger man joked, then pulled out a small blade from a pocket. "They invaded our sanctum 'ere, they owe us; this place has been ours ever since the landlord left and boarded up the place. Lets say we kill this hero and take her. Her mouth looks delicious."

"You think you can take'm?"

"I know I can."

The man lunged hard with his blade and Damascus fell into a defensive posture, reaching out and suddenly slapping the man's hand with both of his, quickly disarming him. The impact of the attack had forced the sharp pressure against the outer and inner parts of the man's hand to release the weapon. He had learned the technique when he had resided on the island of Japan for several months, training with a master in Jiujutsu. In fact, it was a very basic skill. So simplistic to disarm an opponent in close combat.

And by the look of shock on the man's face, Damascus knew he had caught the man off-guard. He probably never expected such a thing form a gentleman. He lightly pushed Kassandra back a few steps, and then delivered a spinning, roundhouse kick to the man, dropping him to the ground in a heap.

The older man then dropped his stick and unsheathed his dagger, and came after him with more precise, trained strikes. Damascus bobbed and weaved, but with a lucky, swift slice through the air, the man managed to cut the front of Damascus's shirt, drawing a little blood. He saw a course of crimson on his palm where he felt the place on his stomach the man had cut.

The man's skill was unexpected.

"Think I didn't have any skills? I fought in the thirteen year war, you see. I was a hired mercenary for the Russians and fought against the Cossacks, slaughtering hundreds."

Damascus recalled this recently ended war.

Before he was ordered by Morning Star to follow Decco, he had wandered the world, speaking with many people - and one topic on a lot of people's lips was the Russo-Polish War that started in 1654 in Russia, where a major uprising in power by a group of militants calling themselves the Cossacks formed a coalition with Russia, where a unification of power was to be ratified, but later betrayal by the Tsardom of Russia forced the Cossacks's leader, a person named Bohdan Khmelnvtsky, to declare of war against Russia, for which, due to economical strife in later years, forced the Cossacks's eventual loss, but giving way to the Polish-Lithuaniun Commonwealth, despite a decisive Russian victory earlier in the year, 1667.

Most of the thirteen year war was fought with horses and swords. Rumors also had it plagued by political backstabbing and money exchange, which would account for hired mercenaries getting involved. However, Damascus suspected, the full extent of the war will not be learned for years to come.

Suddenly Kassandra screamed, "_Damascus!_"

And he looked back and saw the thin man was clutching Kassy's shoulders, pulling her back; she struggling against his grip to no avail.

He had been so distracted with the heavy-set man and his unexpected fighting skill that he had completely forgot about the other man. He also didn't think the man would recover so quickly from the kick he had given him. That was one lesson Master Belial had taught him and that he had momentarily forgotten. Never underestimate a fighter and always expect the unexpected, especially from trickster humans.

Damascus growled angrily. "Let her go!"

And then it happened. Mistake number two. A fatal mistake.

While he was distracted by the thin man, the heavy-set man plunged his dagger deep into Damascus's back and the tip of it extruded through the front of his chest, through his heart.

Damascus gasped, his mouth opened in utter shock, as the man yanked the dagger back out. He momentarily stood there, looking at the hole in his chest and the blood saturating his clothes, then collapsed to his knees. How could he have been so stupid as to allow these humans to get the better of him? Decco was right, he had allowed his emotions and nepotism for humans to befall his natural instincts as a demon. And with his _well of souls_ nearly depleted, he didn't think he had enough energy to heal himself this time.

He fell face first to the floor.

"_DAMASCUS!_" Kassy cried out.

"Now, my little buttercup," the heavy-set man said, his bloodied dagger still in hand. His partner still holding Kassy tight, the heavy-set man approached her and cupped her chin. "Your _poof_ of a boyfriend paid the price for refusing us, now you're all ours. And I plan on having fun with you."

He began to fiddle with the belt of his pants.

Kassy's cries and screams filled the air as Damascus lain there near death. The pain was acute in every facet, but his mind was very much fully aware of the surroundings.

I won't let you die, I won't let these men hurt you!

And he called upon every ounce of soul energy he had left. He felt ripples of power emanating from within his body, pulsing through his every being, creating waves of snake-like tentacles dancing around his body. His _well of souls_ was not empty and he used its remaining power to keep himself alive. And to strike back!

It in turn unleashed the side of him had tried to repress all this time. But h had no choice, it was all about survival now. It was also about _love_.

"_DON'T TOUCH HER!_"

His voice boomed within the confines of the room and an invisible wind suddenly swirled around them, tossing objects and furniture everywhere. And as he stood up, his eyes glowed red with rage. But the darkness of the room cast blindness upon the force of nature his body had become. In almost total blackness, the demonic entity he had cultivated over a two thousand year span was finally being unleashed!

They threw Kassandra to the ground and she hit her head, knocking herself unconscious.

"What the hell are you!" the heavy-set man demanded over the noise of the deafening wind.

"I thought you stabbed him?" the thin man said, as if not comprehending the true nature of the situation befalling them.

"He's not human!"

"You are correct, gentleman," Damascus said. "I am a demon. I am in fact a very _hungry_ demon! And I have not feasted in quite some time. I am glad you can oblige me."

And without haste, he attacked the vulgar pair - feeding on their flesh, sucking out their souls, filling his belly with long needed nourishment, their ear-shattering screams adding pleasure to his meal.

And when it was all over, he breathed heavy, returning to his human-form, bent on one knee in the room, his clothes tattered and torn but his wounds completely healed, and his energy-level highly elevated now with two souls added to the well. He had spent the remaining energy he had, but gained much more, so it was worth it.

Looking up, he saw Kassy laying motionless on the floor. _Was_ it worth it?

_Oh no, she saw me in my demon form. How am I to explain this?_

He quickly went over to her and cradled her in his arms. He had saved her from this pair of scandrals, but at what cost? He may have just lost everything he held dear - what he had feared _would_ happen if he allowed his demonic hunger to get the better of him like what happened at Roanoke fifty-seven years ago. He had slaughtered the entire colony and devoured all these souls after attempting to adhere to a personal discipline for three long years. It was a failed experiment to try to reintegrate himself back into the human culture and Master Belial had scolded him for his fruitless endeavor.

In the years that followed, he eat when he needed. It was only when Decco stole his souls, did he fall back on his personal discipline and vowed not to harm those who had helped him to survive Decco's attempt to kill him. But a protectiveness took over when Kassy was in danger, and he felt he had no choice.

But how would he explain what she had seen?

He extended a hand towards the bloodied and ripped tissue bodies of the two men he slaughtered and burned them with evaporation, completely disintegrating them. It was like they never existed. Then he passed a hand over his clothes and washed the blood away, even repairing his clothes.

Then he had a thought. To protect his secret, would he had to do something he would regret? When Kassy awoke, would she tell the rest the family what she had seen? It happened to often and it was dreadful how sudden chance encounters destroyed lives and their happiness.

And he wished _this_ chance encounter never happened.

Master Belial once said during one of their journeys together that time is relative and you could not necessarily change what as happened albeit observe from it so future mistakes would not occur. He had failed to heed the wise words of his master after Roanoke, that getting involved with humans was a mistake. But things happened that were beyond his control, and he had fallen back into a compliance of human companionship, and allowed himself following his _human_ emotions in staying with Kassandra, whereas he should have left and gained his strength back to the level before Decco did what he did.

It is said _love_ is the strongest human emotion and often overshadows all others, making people do things they regret. Paris and Helen, Tristan and Isolde and Romeo and Juliet - are all prime examples of this strong, often crippling emotion. And he had found himself in this same boat.

But _he_ was a demon.

And yet he was _also_ born human.

He had not realized the true balance of what it meant to be both until now.

He started to pick her up when she began to stir and rested her easily back down. "Kassy, come back to me." And he meant his words to have a double-entendre; he didn't want to lose her.

"Damascus," she said woozily. "What happened?"

"What do you mean, my love?"

"Why am I on the floor?" She opened her eyes to look at him.

What did this mean? "You tripped," he lied, grinning thinly.

"Did I? I don't remember."

"You hit your head," Damascus said with hopeful relief. Did the fall make her forget of what had just happened? "There was…a loose floor board and you fell backwards. I was too late to catch you."

He helped her to sit up. Then he lifted her up into his arms, cradling her like a lover. She was a little taken aback with his boldness, but did not struggle. The human mind was a fragile thing. Sometimes, what doctor's called the 'short-term memory' could be erased with a hit to the head or if someone saw something so terrifying the mind represses it. Regardless of which one, it looked like this had indeed happened with Kassy, and he was so happy for it.

"I don't want to lose you, my dear Kassy. It is time to forget about the past and make a future for ourselves," he said.

"What are saying Damascus?" And although she asked it, her eyes, despite a little woozily, sparkled with the answer she knew.

He cleared his throat. Yes, even a demon can be happy. "What I am saying, Ms. Kassandra Smythe," he smiled, and he felt more nervous than he ever felt before, "is…will you marry me? You make me so happy."

"And you make me happy, too, Damascus. Yes, I will marry you."

And they kissed once more.

Still holding her in his arms, he carried her down the main staircase and kicked the remaining boards down that covered the front door with renewed energy, he walked out of the building.

Here they found Bryan standing at the base of the steps that lead up to the front door of the building. They had told him they were going to visit Kassy's old Boarding House.

With a shocked gasp, he said with a quick succession of hand gestures, he asked, "What happened?" Seeing Damascus carrying her.

Damascus gently let Kassy stand on her own feet.

"Nothing bad Bryan," she said, not revealing her fall. "But Damascus did ask me to marry him."

Damascus and Kassy both smiled at each other.

Bryan looked sharply at each of them in quick succession as to read both their faces of its validity, and then nodded, smiling. He then crooked his fingers into the best form of a heart and swirled a finger in a circle.

"Do they now?" Kassandra said suspiciously.

Bryan nodded.

Damascus was a little confused. "What did he say?" He had not deduced all of Bryan's sign language yet, but this was new even to him. The heart was obvious, but…

"He said the _whole_ family…" she gestured a finger in a circle, "secretly knew about us, and that _we_ are bad at keeping secrets."

Bryan then put a hand to his mouth and then gestured "loudness".

Kassandra's eyes grew wide and her face blushed. "You mean…" Bryan nodded. "He also says," she swallowed, saying before Damascus could ask, "that we are very loud."

And Damascus gave a soft chuckle.

* * *

They were married in a short ceremony with family and friends in the back courtyard of the Smythe family home two weeks later.

When they had returned home from that day in London, the day Damascus proposed to her, they had told the family everything, even about the fall. Damascus was very pleased Kassandra had not remembered what truly happened and he would keep it to himself. But while the souls did nourish him, they were hollow. They had no "taste" to them, he later noticed.

He remembered after devouring the souls of the colonist's of Roanoke that they tasted much better than the two scandrals at the Boarding House. The colonist's souls had been cultivated, seasoned, each one had a slightly different flavor, over the three years he had been with them and not _eating_. It was funny, but he felt souls tasted better and had more potency when he _played with his food, _especially a soul with a dark energy or a sinful, painful past. He would have to remember that for the future.

But right now, his future resided here with Kassy.

Damascus had no family to invite to the ceremony, but Kassandra's brother had invited a few close friends, including the Phantomhive's whom Damascus had met on a prior occasion. It was a splendid occasion. Although, he had to bite his tongue when the priest recited a few choice words from the bible to consummate their marriage, and got them wrong, paraphrasing badly, even Kassandra seemed to be a little perturbed. But none of the guests or other family noticed, as they weren't biblically conscientious. Although Damascus merely learned the bible to be more attune to angelic entities and his rivals in Heaven.

And Damascus could smell alcohol on the priest during the ceremony. They were married by a drunk priest.

Throughout it all, Bryan was the overall perfect servant. He cooked the food, he served the drinks, put up decorations setting things up the day prior, including the ceremonious weeding half-moon arch for which they were married within and everything for the reception afterwards including tables and chair. The only ironic thing Damascus noticed was that everything was white, and for a demon, it was not his best color.

But Kassy loved it, and she looked like an angel in her white dress, contrasting he in a dark suit. He had talked it over with his brother-in-law and father-in-law and they both agreed. He wearing a white suit would not look good on him.

He was definitely _not_ pure.

And he had not forgotten about his mission for Morning Star to find Master Belial, for which he now knew Decco had imprisoned him in a sachet of purgatory. However, in his current _state of being_, he was no match for Decco or any of his demon henchmen. He was sure Morning Star would understand and was probably sending others against Decco, as well, to find out the truth.

An hour into the food service for which Bryan also did, William, a little drunk, stood up from the main table where Kassandra and Damascus sat. In his hand was a full wine glass and he spilt some on the table and the grass as he tried to steady himself. Damascus observed over the last year William always enjoyed a drink now and again, but when he got drunk he was obnoxious, and now, probably feeling the occasion called for it, he had drank too much and was completely soused. He feared the outcome.

"To my sister and her husband," he said with a little slur in his voice, he was obviously about to make a toast, "and to their happiness and long life. May the righteous angels fart in the devil's face if he so dares tear them asunder." Voices from guests in disbelief muttered abashment. "May their passion never falter and their babies be handsome and beautiful. And God isn't the only one who knows my sister can be a wild tiger in bed." Damascus saw William wink at him. "She's a real hell raiser, eh, Damascus? Polish the old wick. So when am I goin' to be an uncle? The way you two go at it, any time, right?"

"Please William, you're embarrassing yourself." Damascus looked at Kassy, her face was red. "And everyone else." Even Beautieuse was abashed. "I want you to sit down _now_."

Wine sloshed from his wine glass as he took offense. "Oh, come on, Damascus. I'm toastin'ere. Can't your brother-in-law say a few nice words?"

Damascus stood up. "Yes, you can," he said. "But only if you have sobered up a little."

"Oh poo," William said, wobbly on his feet.

He went to sit in his chair, but Damascus saw that he was off the mark and tried to grab him before he fell to the ground, but William reached out and grabbed him instead, clutching his vest, and took him to the ground with him. They felt on top of one other, whereas Damascus immediately rolled off, and saw that his vest was partially ripped, the buttons yanked through the holes and his white dress shirt saturated with wine.

Others came to help, and Damascus got to his feet. "Oh Damascus, are you all right?" Kassy said.

"I am," he said, taking a cloth and wiping the stain on his shirt, attempting to clean it. "Your brother…just got a little excited, that's all. I hold nothing against him for it."

"I am so embarrassed."

But Damascus smiled, cupping her chin lightly. "Do not worry, my sweet Kassy, everything will be all right. But I am afraid my attire is not appropriate to continue. A proper gentleman must be dressed accordingly for his lady. Allow me to change into something as equally suitable. I shalt be long."

And he left, and went through the back door of the house that entered into the kitchen. Here he found Bryan washing dishes.

He appeared to notice immediately Damascus's torn and stained clothes. He had obviously not been privy to the incident, even though there was a window above the sink area looking out into the back courtyard. Bryan's look said it all, no hand gestures were needed to ask, "What happened?"

"William is a little drunk and…"

Bryan nodded, as if nothing else needed to be said.

"I am going to change."

**To be continued…**


	27. Surprises

_**CHAPTER 27 - "SURPRISES"**_

In their bed chambers, Damascus undressed and chose a light colored shirt from the closet. Unfortunately his only vest had been ruined, so he decided he would only go out with a shirt and a tie, and he bet when morning came along and William was told what he had done, he would insist on buying Damascus a new one. Damascus didn't really care about that, he was happy regardless.

Happy that he had finally found a woman he loved and cherished. And he wondered if he was the first demon to do such a thing and settle down with a human. Probably not, or indeed have coitus with. He had known many demons including Morning Star and even Master Belial who seeded children. But they probably did so in wicked passion, not loving the partner they were with.

Then what did it make _him_? Was he hypocrite, a demon that _fell from grace_, because he wasn't a bastard like the rest? That he respected humans for their kindness, their accomplishment, their determination in the face of adversity? Humans weren't just food. They were intelligence creatures. He knew demons and humans could co-exist, he had proven it on _many_ occasions.

He sighed. He was philosophizing again. But he _was_ right.

He put the thought out of his mind and finished dressing and returned to the kitchen, where Bryan had just finished cleaning up and was now preparing food to take out to the wedding guests on a platter.

"How do I look?" he asked Bryan.

Bryan turned from his task and looked at him. He tilted his head, then left his spot, approached him and commenced in fixing his ribbon tie. Damascus accepted the manservant's help. Sometimes he didn't know where he would be without him. Bryan had been so much help in his recovery.

Once finished, Bryan stood back and nodded, exhibiting a hand gesture for "perfection".

"Thank you, Bryan. You are a…_Godsend_." Damascus found it ironic that _he_ would be using a word like that, but throughout everything he had been through, Bryan had been there helping him with Kassandra at his side, like an angelic being who has been sent down to help a soul in his greatest time of need.

Bryan smiled and bowed low. "If you harm Lady Kassandra in any way, I will kill you," came a voice.

Damascus's mouth dropped open. "What…did you…_say_? You can _talk_?"

Bryan smiled again.

Damascus frowned. "I knew I felt an unusual power within this household. It _is_ you."

"You demons are such a nuisance. As everyone here was human, they could not detect my power level. But when you came, I had to make efforts to mask it."

"Who or _what_ are you?"

"I am a being of another nature who took possession of this body some years back when the host contracted leprosy, a normally fatal and fast working disease that there is no cure for."

"Bryan was dying? But he shows no signs of the disease."

"He did, but I cured him of it, but not without a high price. But if it wasn't for that stupid fool of a master he once worked for, the boy would not have contracted it through open sores and wounds that were inflicted upon Bryan through countless beatings and other insidious means."

"Explain."

"Even though it started with one act of kindness, servicing Lord Smythe brought countless years of mercy for the boy. The man he vowed to repay a debt to for saving him from a life on the street was a heavy drinker and enjoyed beating on the boy, among doing other things. And disgusting _things_ that I will not even tell you about. Lord Smythe was sick in the head, Damascus. And when the man finally died, the boy inside rejoiced. But he was promised in the man's will to Beautiesue. She and William at least took care of him, but as you can see, William likes to drink as well. And Bryan gets frightened when he does, so he is glad I am here to comfort him. And to protect him."

"Where do _you_ come in, and how can you talk?"

"Bryan can talk, he just chooses not to - traumatized by Lord Smythe after what he did to him the first time. The man said if he ever told anyone what occurred, he would kill the boy. From that day forth, the boy remaining with him, Bryan chose to stop speaking, and the old man told everyone that Bryan was a mute when he was first introduced to the family. Since then, he - _we_ - have never spoken."

"The first time," Damascus said somberly. "Are you saying Beautieuse's father abused the boy sexually?"

"There are evils in this world that do not need to be committed by a demon or a ghostly entity to be truly _evil_, Damascus, especially when a _human_ succumbs to their most heart-felt desires."

Damascus agreed with that. There were many atrocities committed by humanity that he had seen in his two thousand years that disgusted him. In fact, a good deal of them were done in the name of religion. And he found that humans never seemed to learn from their mistakes, repeating them with each new generation. And there were even things humans did that truly aghast him and to sexually abuse a child was one of them. The Ancient Greeks used to do such things, but I had hoped _the practice _had stopped.

He was a demon, but even he had morals, certain laws he lived by, and not just from what his master had taught him. Some things in life are self-taught and self-governed.

"After the boy contracted leprosy and he began to show signs of it, it tried to hid the scabs and marks by wrapping himself up with more and more clothes, but he knew when his master eventually learned of his condition, he would probably banish him to the streets again to die. This is when I found him, and we made a covenant of sorts. If I could reside inside his body, I will cure him. As he had no where else to go and didn't want to die, he agreed quite quickly. I cured him, but then poisoned his master when I learned what he had done to Bryan. Bryan seemed indifferent to what I had done. Later, he came to live here and was treated properly with kindness and compassion when retained on as their manservant."

"But you said your consummation came at a high price."

Bryan nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. The boy was rather weak-willed, broken by Beautieuse's father, so my presence and consciousness has rather subjugated his own."

"So you buried the real Bryan, and this is _you_ am I speaking with and not him?"

"Of a fashion. We are of one mind now. But he accepts my companionship and he _speaks_ with me on occasion about current events, those he has seen through our eyes, and he does not mind serving others. I - _we_ - rather enjoy it, and it gives us purpose, for which everyone must feel, or life itself is worthless."

"Purpose? What sort of _being_ are you?"

"I once had a name and a purpose, but neither one matters now. I was stripped of everything I held dear and left to wander aimlessly through the Astral Plain disembodied for all eternity, until I learned a new trick - that of _host consummation_, to conjoin with a human and live again."

"I think I understand, and if Bryan agreed to it, it is an issue best left between you two. However, I have also noticed your eye towards my wife. You have the body a young man and urges…"

"Are you asking if I have any interest in Lady Kassandra because of what I said? My threat, however quite serious then but laughable now, was merely a stance of protection, as I have known her longer than you, as well as you being a demon and I knowing the nature of your kind as be ravenous and wicked."

"As someone once said to me, I suppose I could be considered a _good_ demon."

"There is no such thing."

"I took a secret vow not to harm these people due to their kindness in helping me off that cross. A cross, for which, Kassy told me you removed the spikes cast with a demonic spell. No human could remove them. So don't think I have not suspected you of being more than you claim all this time, Bryan."

"Very good, you have learned that lesson - not everything is as it seems. Your teacher taught you well."

"My Master is missing, in fact, thrown into a purgatory for which there is no escape by another demon, who just happened to be one of his past students."

"There is always an escape to every inescapable cell, but finding it takes the right key." Bryan took a moment to look out the window to the wedding guests outside, then turned back. "And it appears you, Damascus, have found the right key to wash away the stigma of what people think a demon is. You are not all bad, it seems. But like I said, if you harm Lady Kassandra or any of your babies do, I will kill you all."

Damascus stood dumbfounded. "Babies?"

Bryan momentarily put a hand to his mouth, then removed it. "Forgive me, I appeared to let the cat out of the bag. The sickness Lady Kassandra has been having these last few mornings is because she is pregnant. You will be having twin boys."

Damascus's eyes went wide. "How do you know this?"

"Because I can see things you can not." Bryan narrowed his eyes. Damascus felt Bryan staring directly into his innerself. "I have also just become aware by the revelation I have granted you of your wife being pregnant that you will be wondering about your babies' temperment inside her womb. Will they be ravenous and ill-mannered like most demons born or will they fall more to their mother's side."

"Are you a mind-reader, as well?"

"Not exactly, but the inquiry is quite obvious. And the answer is I don't know. Not all demons are inherently evil, especially if they come from two people who are _originally_ human, one of which became a demon by no true choice of their own many years ago." Bryan smirked. "When we brought you home and you were fell unconscious for several days, I played your history through your mind. I wanted to know who you were in case you were a threat to the family. I am very protective of them."

Damascus knew this quite well.

"I know all about you, Damascus. Roman citizen from Pompeii, granted demon hood by your master from an eternal servitude from an agonizing fate of being buried alive inside an tomb of volcanic ash and debris by an exploding mountain offset from your city by the sea. It falls to play to a hidden fear of enclosed places. Your master then trained you to be the demon you are today, minus a few proprieties you picked up from personal experiments you commenced in, all of which eventually failed, but not without a lesson learned. You have a powerful rival who bested you, and he was the one who nailed you to that cross."

Damascus nodded, everything was correct.

"And the rest, as they say, is history. Did I leave anything out?"

"Yes, my unhealthy liking of cats," Damascus said sarcastically.

Bryan cocked an eyebrow. "Indeed. Even I am even confused with that, but we are all _different_. I only gazed at the major events of your life, including what _really_ happened in the Boarding House two weeks ago. You were lucky she didn't remember what happened when she bumped her head, when she was thrown to the floor, but she could've remembered everything, so I reinforced it. She will never remember it. I see now you are a good man, Damascus, and I know you love Kassandra very much. I find this surprising for a demon because of your species supposed nature as evil-like. But back to the issue at hand. Your sons will be demanding, but nourish them properly and they will grow well."

"You are wise beyond your years," Damascus said thankfully.

Bryan chuckled. "I would hope so, I am over ten thousand years old."

"Ten thousand years old?!" Damascus said rather too loudly and clamped a hand over his mouth. They both looked out the window and the open door, but the guests' were having such a good time, no one had heard him. He sighed relieved. "Tell me, you know _my_ history, tell me what happened to your body?"

"I was very outspoken about the governing council that was established at the time where I resided, they were cruel and heartless and abused their powers condemning countless members of my kind to wander aimlessly, disembodied, for their opposing views of their rule. So they saw fit to silence me and concocted a serious charge of conspiracy against me, stripping me of my status and title, and threatened to do the same to all my supports if they did not denounce me. To save themselves, they did."

"This story sounds familiar." And Damascus immediately recalled the biblical story of Judas Iscariot. One man in Jesus's trusted circle of twelve apostles who betrayed him to save himself from Roman prosecution from spreading the word of the Lord. A story of this affect did pass through Pompeii at one point two thousand years ago, but he couldn't remember all the details as it was so long ago. But it was to put fear into Roman citizens to not follow Christianity. Later, the Roman Emperor Constantine openly accepted Christianity, converting Roman society nearly three hundred years later. "So your followers left you to rot."

"Not so much now, as some lobby behind the scenes for the wrongly accused. From what I hear, there have been many of my kind since who have been wrongly accused of crimes and condemned like I have, all because they have been outspoken in their views against the High Ruling Council. They wander the planet now hoping for some form of salvation from their eternal misery."

Damascus looked away for a moment, a thought occurring to him. And he didn't know where he got it from, but he said, "Are you what's known as a _Fallen Reaper_?"

Bryan looked shocked. "Correct. Have you heard of us?"

Damascus shook his head unsure. "In another time, in another place…perhaps. But my mind plays tricks on me sometimes, that I believe are delusional thoughts, therefore I cast away. During moments of reflection or retrospection, I believe what I am experiencing is in fact a dream, or that I am replaying my life…"

"Do you mean you believe you have done something like this before?"

"Yes, that I have done _all of this_ before. Even talking with you, although when you spoke I was still shocked."

"Events are remembered not necessarily by what took place, but by feelings and perspective, and everyone experiences things different and insignificant things are often forgotten because they are often of no important to the overall experience. Time is not linear as many believe, much like memories." Bryan smiled. "But to answer your question. It is quite simple. Don't think about it. Live for the moment. The human brain is a very powerful tool, and eventually every tool must be rested or it will wear out, burn itself out, and even the brain must sleep, even if only for a moment. I have observed many humans experience this phenomenon, but then shake it off and continue on with their lives."

"But could there be something to it?"

"Like what? That this whole world is nothing but someone's dream? And if this someone wakes up it will disappear as will everyone the person has imagined throughout his life - wink out? Forgotten? I say, this is talk for philosophers. Leave it to them. You probably heard the term 'Fallen Reaper' at one point during your journeys, and it had no significance to you then, and you merely forgot about it until now when I described myself and what I did as a profession."

"So what does a _Reaper_ do?"

"A Reaper is a go-between, transfixing through the living and the dead. When a person is set to die, we show them a record of their entire life, showing them what their mind has forgotten. For example, let's say for the sake of argument, you are experiencing a dream. For a person who is about to die, they will also dream - experiencing their entire life in a very short time. It must be done this way, for the human brain can not live for long without blood and oxygen, and without them both, the cinematic record will not work."

"Could this be _my_ cinematic record playing before me?"

"That is highly doubtful. If it were so, your cinematic record would have ended at Pompeii. No, cinematic records are reserved for humans only. Animals and insects and other creatures on the planet are too stupid to understand it, so we don't bother with them. Humans are the only species on the planet that can comprehend the concept of death. All other species merely live in the present not thinking of the future."

"But I am also human. I have feelings, thoughts, experiences. And I _can _understand the concept of death."

"You are philosophizing again. Demons devour souls, they don't have one of their own."

He could debate this or he could just let it drop for now. He decided to let it drop. Perhaps later when they were alone again and had more time they could pick up on the discussion, but he had wedding guests waiting. But he did wonder about one thing: "Will it be possible for you to give Bryan's body back to him someday?"

Bryan, or rather the entity, frowned. "I am afraid not," he said. "Our consciousness's are too well blended for such a radical divergence, and Bryan doesn't wish it. He feels safe."

"So, realistically, you have stolen his life."

"Does it bother you?" Bryan's mouth crooked into an uneasy smile. "You steal souls to live, so you have no avenue to debate the right or wrong of it. I can see how much you struggle to keep your hunger under control and how the urge to feed gets worse everyday. But even those souls you devoured in the Boarding House won't satisfy you for long. Will you eventually go mad and devour your new family as well?"

"I have made a vow not to harm them."

"And how long will that vow last? Even with as many souls as you had at Roanoke, you could only have sipped the _well_ for so long before your demon need to feed took over. Survival is instinctive, and often it overshadows even sanity. You can sense my full power now, correct?"

Damascus nodded. "It is massive," he said, and he found himself licking the inside of his lips.

"Your hunger has dwindled slightly, my friend, but I can still see it burning in your eyes. Without more souls to strengthen your resolve, you'll soon succumb to your needs. And I will be waiting."

"You will be waiting?"

"Now that you know the power that I hold, you will eventually fall and attempt to devour my spirit. It is enviable. Like a carrot being held just out of reach of a horse."

"Why do this?"

"Because life is a series of choices and challenges. And I want to see how long you can hold out."

"You could have let sleeping dogs lie and continued to live as you were, having me always suspect you."

"But what would be the fun in that? And if you tell anyone that I can speak, all this will end." Bryan picked up a round serving platter with crab cakes that was on a table. "When you do come to your demon senses, we will speak again. In the meantime…"

Bryan smiled, and tilted his head slightly, as if returning to the mild-mannered, mute, innocent manservant Damascus once knew him as, and then he walked outside to serve the wedding guests.

Damascus wiped his mouth. Indeed Bryan's power was very massive and he no longer masked it. It was like a beacon of light at the end of a long tunnel, that if Damascus chose to seek, and if he could defeat Bryan, would give him an awesome amount of power, and more so to defeat Decco with ease.

But the question was why. Why didn't Bryan continue to mask his power? Bryan was not malicious, so why tease him with his power. Damascus didn't buy that. There was something else going on.

Bryan broke his silence for a reason, a reason that left Damascus confused at the moment. Bryan wanted Damascus to know _something_, and it wasn't just how powerful he was.

Bryan was very protective of the family, but he could have _still_ protected them under the guise of a mute manservant.

No, Bryan had _challenged_ him. It wasn't an out-right challenge, but Damascus could see it now.

But it would have to wait until later, he had wedding guests.

* * *

"I have had enough of this tediousness," Ciel demanded. "I will not wait all night and near into morning for this _Reaper_ to watch Sebastian's dreams while we stand here freezing our - "

"Brother," Lukas said, "there's nothing we can do." He put himself in front of Ciel, to stop him from once again doing something foolish. The last time Ciel had lost his patience, Mathu Kelvin had thrown Ciel back into the others like a bowling pins. "He's too powerful for any of us to confront."

"Perhaps we can reason with him rationally," Abberline suggested, and he stepped forward. And began to speak before he could be stopped. "Mr. Kelvin, I wish to know your grievances towards Sebastian Michaelis. What exactly has he done do you?"

Mathu Kelvin looked up at the detective. "This is beyond you, Inspector," he said. "Why are you even here? Ah, oh yes, you came with that young man whom I killed."

"Yes, and when Spencer Von Strauss has learned what you did, he will demand answers."

"The guy was in the wrong place at the wrong time, as simple as that."

"You used him to demonstrate your power, that is the truth. He was a victim of your arrogance."

"Inspector, don't antagonize him," Lukas said.

"Lukas Phantomhive, it is obvious here, that once he fulfills his revenge, he will not allow any of us to live. I am simply demanding answers to questions I have, so when I meet my maker, I will have no doubts."

"Of course you will have doubts, Inspector," Kelvin said. "You're doubting the situation right now. All your logic is still attempting to reason out that this is really happening, wondering if things of this nature can not happen in an orderly world. Well, Inspector, things are not so orderly as you may believe they are."

"And I have accept this fact, Kelvin," Abberline said firmly. "What I doubt is your reasoning. There is something _else_ going on that you are not telling us. If you really wanted revenge on Sebastian Michaelis, then killing him while he is defenseless is the perfect opportunity. He'll offer no resistance."

"Very good, Inspector. You are essentially correct. I _am_ here for another purpose."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Enough!" Ciel interrupted loudly. "I have had enough of this! Sebastian is my butler and he obeys me! He has _slept _enough!" Ciel ripped off his eye patch and threw it asunder and suddenly his covenant became to glower a purplish-red color. "Sebastian, I order you…awaken _now_!"

"Save it boy," Kelvin said. "He was rendered unconscious by a power greater than your covenant bond."

Suddenly a surge of awesome power repelled Mathu Kelvin back several feet, and when he landed, he blinked with utter shock. "What the hell!"

"What happened?" Lukas voiced.

Ciel smiled smug. "Indeed, Mathu Kelvin," he said, his eye continue to glower, in-turned fists on his hips. "You are mistaken. There is no more powerful bond than _that _between master and butler."

Mathu Kelvin returned to his feet, dusting himself off. And then _he_ smiled smug. "Do not be so proud of yourself, boy. Your butler is still asleep. This power did not come from him."

Ciel gazed down at Sebastian and saw him still unconscious, and a good deal of his conceit faded. So what repelled the _Reaper_? But he shook his head, and held it up high. "My words still held weight, so even unconscious, Sebastian heard me and knew what I wished. And he obviously does not want you to _see_ anymore of whatever he is dreaming."

"Once again, your arrogance is unfounded," Kelvin said, and his eyes floated around the area as if looking for someone. "It would happen that a certain someone survived my efforts to eliminate him."

Renfrew Phantomhive appeared before him, between him and Sebastian, his blue translucent effervescence as brilliant as ever.

"_Renfrew!_" Lukas said ecstatically happy.

"You Phantomhive's don't _die_ so easily," Kelvin said, his eyes narrowing with slight annoyance.

"I would hope not," Renfrew said, giving Lukas a passing glance back and a smile. He then returned his attention back to Kelvin. "I allowed you a glimpse into Sebastian's history, but no more," he proclaimed.

"You _allowed me_? You are a ghost, I absorbed you. How did you survive?"

"Are that naïve, Kelvin? I am a _being_ of pure energy, like yourself when you fully embraced your _Fallen Reaper_ counterpart. I merely used your energy to reform my physical body."

"Clever boy." Mathu Kelvin looked annoyed as if he should have know that.

"Or perhaps you _didn't know _as you are not as knowledgeable of such things as I am. As I am older. With experience comes knowledge and with knowledge comes the power to do certainthings. Now, tell me the truth, what is you true purpose in being here? To cause destruction, to kill Sebastian Michaelis?"

Kelvin laughed. "You assume much ghost, for that is _not_ the reason why I am here. Believe it or not, I am here to _help_ Sebastian Michaelis."

"You are correct," Ciel chimed in, "we do not believe you. You have done nothing of the sort to make us believe otherwise. What could you probably offer us as believability of your intent?"

Kelvin reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue gem chip. "This is a piece of the Hope Diamond, the same as in your family ring, Ciel Phantomhive. It has a dark power greater than any comprehension. This is yet another piece I found in my search for more pieces that was broken off the original diamond…"

"And…"

"Sebastian Michaelis will need it."

"For what reason? If he needed a piece of the Hope Diamond, he could have used this one." Ciel held up his left hand where the Hope Diamond ring sat around his thumb. "My piece is larger."

"It is not the size of the piece that matters, Ciel Phantomhive, it's the history within it. And this piece of the Hope Diamond has seen more dark history that any other piece of its make. But it will take too long to explain it fully to you. Regardless, once I give this to Sebastian and explain its use, he will know why."

"And this is why you have returned from Hell? You didn't escape then?"

"No, I was given a _reprieve_ if you will. I was sent my Sebastian's _master_ Morning Star."

"Lucifer."

"Correct. There is something, or rather _someone_, Sebastian has been searching for, but has been unable to find. But Morning Star has found _him_ and now the _power_ or the key to open the door has been handed to me."

"Key?" Lukas stepped forward. "But I thought I was the key to open this mysterious door?"

"You are _the_ _holder of the_ _knowledge,_ Lukas Phantomhive, albeit the Key Master, Ciel it the Gate Keeper - the mark of the beast on his back is "the door". But there is one more element - _this_. This is the power source for the others to work, otherwise they remain dormant. With all three, the door can be opened."

"_No!_" Renfrew protested. "I won't allow it! The door can _not_ be opened! Or _He_ will escape!"

"Not even _you_ can stop his return now," Mathu Kelvin said. "And like every rebirth, every summoning, a sacrifice must be had." And he looked at both Ciel and Lukas Phantomhive. "But that will not be up to me to decide. Ironically, the ultimate choice will be up to Sebastian Michaelis."

"What do you mean?" Renfrew said.

"Now who is the _one_ being naïve?"

**To be continued…**


	28. Knox To The Rescue

_**CHAPTER 28 - "KNOX TO THE RESCUE"**_

Ronald Knox wished that he was anywhere else _but_ this place. The Von Strauss Manor felt so in depth with an evil influence that the shiver down his spine was now starting to make his entire body quiver. He was a _Reaper_, a being who dealt with death on a daily bases, but the power he felt here was beyond _death itself_, and he wondered if he should call for reinforcements.

He shook his head. That would make him a coward, despite it being in line with policy if a _Reaper_ felt threatened by a greater power, there was greater strength in numbers. But then all that praise and boasting over the last couple of months when he captured the massive monster Ironstadt would fall to the wayside. And besides, this was his mission, albeit being forced upon him by William. He could handle it…

_Damn you, Thann Von Strauss, why did you have to be the first to escape the Processing Centre?_

But he had no answer to that. His only insights in the human was his life before his death. At the time of his death, he was twenty-five years old, but he already had a wide-variety of gaming dens he owned and operated, taken from the former owner of illegal underground gambling ring Mathu Kelvin added to him own.

As a kid, Thann Von Strauss was an intelligent boy who aced all his school subjects, but along the way, his arrogance and perhaps his father's influence got the better of him and he never went to college or university to further his education. Instead, he followed the path of his father and became an envoy for the Illuminati, whom Thann had been a part of in his younger years via his father for many years, introduced to some of the wealthiest and influential people in England and throughout the world.

Morally corrupt and at a young age, he began to involve himself in more of the Illuminati, and soon, without him even knowing it, engulfed himself within their world of immorally ambiguous people, eventually bringing his little brother into the fold. And they both engaged in ceremonial sexual acts that the Illuminati thought would peak an interest of a demon. The Illuminati _thought_ they knew all there was to know about their world and wanted to know the secrets of the ages, so Thann accepted the ideal of a blood sacrifice, killing his sister to summon a demon while having sex with her.

It didn't work. And that was also the moment where his little brother Spencer Von Strauss became repulsed by everything the Illuminati was, as well as the immortality of his own family. Spencer then wished to expose the Illuminati, but Thann was sent by their father to stop him. And through an association by a mutual acquaintance, Thann and a demon set to break Spencer by giving the boy his most heart-felt desire, knowing Spencer was indeed _gay_. But this is when the end came for Thann, when in the end, it turned out Thann's hidden desires mirrored that of his brother, and forced Spencer to service him sexually. Thann didn't know at the time that the demon had already turned Spencer and…

Thann bled to death in the secret room that he had brought Spencer to be tortured. Spencer, as some people would say, snapped, and killed his brother by biting off a vital organ. When Knox had gone to the room to retrieve Thann's soul, this _organ_ was sitting next to Thann's bloodied body in a pool of blood. Knox had seen worse things, but it nevertheless disgusted him.

But then why was Thann back here? Was it as simple as Thann _wanting to go home_? Most spirits wanted to return back to the place where they felt most comfortable in life. This meant Thann would be just as stubborn in death as he was in life would refuse to leave?

_I can be stubborn to._

But the evil Knox felt _now_ was suffocating and he had not feel this evil from Thann when he retrieved his soul, although he did feel a dark evil residue within the room he found Thann, so he knew this evil was not coming from him, albeit familiar, and the same evil, in fact. The evil from the demon? Was the demon that seduced Spencer in the Von Strauss Manor? And Thann wanted to confront it?

Knox had a thought. Could Thann's attempt to repent his evils in life, the moment he broke down and begged Knox to restore him to the living, have draw him here to save his brother from this demon? Was Spencer here too? Could this have been the reason Thann escaped the Processing Centre?

No spirit had ever done it before, so security had been very relaxed…

_Elusive indeed_, Knox thought. _Someone was just being lazy and now I have to correct things. But why do people have to be heroes? What does he think he can do? He's dead! He has no physical form._

Knox rolled his eyes. But Thann _was_ in danger from this demon, every demon devoured souls. If he was to bring Thann back to the Processing Centre, he'd have to enter this place and _save_ Thann.

_I'm not a hero; I am a Reaper doing his job. But why me?_

He walked to the front door of the manor, but didn't need to physically touch it to open it. It creaked open, and he stood there looking into the main vestibule, a very dark vestibule. The only light cast was moonlight in the sky, but at this angle, it wasn't very much. And not only was it dark, it was very cold. Someone had turned the heat off? Demons liked heat. Their place of origin was a forever pit of fire.

But this was insignificant. Perhaps the cold he felt was not necessarily temperature based as it was his own mind playing tricks on him. Fear had a habit of making things out to be much more than what they were and he was already very apprehensive with the _cold evil_ that resided inside his place.

It seemed a lot more demons were starting to come out of the woodwork lately since Sebastian Michaelis emerged, making a covenant with Ciel Phantomhive. And this in turn, created more problems for _Reapers_, adding more work for them to retrieve the souls of the dead from demon's attacking and killing them. Sebastian Michaelis appeared to be one of the more civil ones. Sebastian Michaelis's intentions were his own, but this other demon seemed affluent in _his_ malicious tendencies, albeit quiet for now, Knox suspected a huge storm was about to erupt that will cost so many lives, causing even more work for _Reapers_.

Reaper policy dictated no interference in the lives of humans that could change the course of their lives.

Grell Sutcliffe, another _Reaper_, failed to heed to this rule, and collaborating with a human, set to change the course of English society by murdering undesired people - namely prostitutes. He was playing butler to Ciel Phantomhive's aunt at the time and teamed with her to systematically kill women whom Madame Red felt were abusing the gift of life in soliciting their bodies to men for purchase, because of an accident that prevented her from having children, losing her unborn child and husband. But Sebastian and Ciel eventually stopped her and Grell was punished for his participation by William T. Spears, the Head of Reaper Affairs.

Only recently during the _Fallen Reaper Affair with the Phantomhive's,_ as most were calling it these days months prior, did Knox himself get involved in a human affair, fighting with Sebastian and Ciel and Lukas Phantomhive against a trio of supernatural beings. He was deducted two demerit points, but managed to get them back. Grell, on the other hand, was still on thin ice.

But that was the past and he had a job to do.

Voices were coming from the Dining Hall, loud voices - or it could just be the acoustics, the way the sound was being carried - and he ventured towards them.

The door to the hall was partially askew, so he looked with one eye through the crack. He saw Thann talking with others, and when he looked further and up he saw a blood-rust, gigantic form.

_Oh great! Another sadistic, ego-maniac with a grotesque-looking monster? Just my luck! Why me?_

He saw Spencer Von Strauss was also in the room with a demonic covenant on his forehead and for whatever reason, he had his pants down exposing his pelvic region. _Woah, no genny's. The demon much've made you into a eunuch. Too bad, kid._

He didn't recognize the others. One of them was an older, whitish-hair man and a young, blonde boy. Near them was a younger man dressed entirely in black, assumingly the demon who was the ring leader to this crazy circus of freaks. And this is where the feeling of evil was coming from - from _him_. The demon radiated of it like the sun, but at least this guy didn't look like a human lightning rod like Mathu Kelvin.

But there a valuable saying: _Always watch out for the quiet ones, for they are the most dangerous._

"_Stop this madness!_" Thann shouted out, his voice resounding through the room.

"Madness?" the black-clad demon said. "You're one to rebuke. Whoring and raping countless women during your Illuminati ceremonies and liking it, adding to that, killing your sister, all for the sake of failed attempts at summon a demon to your beckon call. You humans and your antiquated thinking. This isn't the middle-ages, or ancient times, we demons can not be drawn by your pathetic lure of fresh blood and human sacrifice any longer. If we want blood, if we want a soul - we just take it now." He gestured to the others standing at the far end of the room - the older man and the young boy. And then Spencer.

"Oedipus was sane compared to what you and the Illuminati thought you could do, believing you could control a demon when summoned. Lightning never strikes twice in the same place, Thann Von Strauss. Sebastian Michaelis was drawn to Ciel Phantomhive because of his dark soul after everything that had done to him - his parents murdered, his brother removed, his innocence taken. The Inner Circle lured him to them with sacrificial lambs of children and fresh blood. But he out-smarted them. As I out-smarted you."

"The Illuminati were wrong and _I_ freely admit my sickness - _my madness_. And I know I will pay for it in the afterlife, but this…this _thing_ is an monstrosity - it can not exist!"

The demon chuckled. "This is your brother's doing, Thann. _Epimetheus_ is the manifestation of all his hate and malice he has towards you, your father, and the Illuminati. Look how _beautifully abominable_ Spencer has created him out of your father's friends McDermott and Thibeau."

"Had," Spencer said, pulling up his pants. "I am no longer angry." He smiled at Thann.

Thann nodded, and Spencer acknowledged it with a nod of his own.

But Thann frowned. "My brother hates me no matter what has been said here today, I know this to be true. My life is spent and I will never be able to redeem the trust I have lost with him. What I did to him throughout the years can never be erased and I will pay for it. And it is because of _my_ actions in life that he is here now with you, that he has created this thing from all the inner hate he feels, especially towards me."

"Thann, I forgive you! And I am sorry I…did _that_ to you…"

"I appreciate your words, brother, but they do not change things. I deserved it. I abused you as a brother _and_ as a human being. I will certainly burn in Hell for my transgressions. However, Decco, if one must serve you for all eternity, then return what you took from my brother and let him go, and I _will_ stand in his place willingly. No argument."

"You have already offered yourself to me and I have refused. Your brother is mine."

"Then allow me to be with my brother. I will stand at his and your side for all eternity."

Knox had heard all he needed and he couldn't allow that. He walked through the wall. "Ah, no. I don't think so," he said. "Thann, you escaped from the spirit processing centre and I'm here to take you back."

"Who the hell are you?" Decco said.

"Knox, Ronald Knox." Knox smiled, and went to stand next to Thann, who looked more solid. The demon must have hardened his spirit's essence to see Thann's body better instead of a translucent form.

Thann turned to him. "Reaper, what are you doing here?" he said.

"To bring you back. You're an oddity. You're the first spirit to ever to escape the PO. Since I originally brought you in, my superior said I was the one that needed to retrieve you. I've already worked a 72 hour shift and I'm a little cranky, so you're coming with me _now_."

"You're a _Reaper_?" Decco asked, looking Knox up and down.

"Who is this guy?" Knox said to Thann.

"His name is Decco, a very powerful demon, and a bastard of one, too."

Decco's brow rose. "For a ghost, you've got balls." He smirked sarcastically. "In fact, that's all you've got."

"Regardless of who he is, you're coming with me, Thann. Someone else can handle this," Knox said. "But I will have to report this activity to my superior."

Thann appeared he was about to retort when Decco folded his arms across his chest and said, "And what would your _Reaper_ brethren response be?"

"I get the feeling this guy knows more about you _Reapers_ than he's letting on," Thann said. "And he knows another demon he resides in the human world, Ciel Phantomhive's butler Sebastian Michaelis."

Knox nodded. "Yeah, I know him. Elegant guy. Powerful and strong, too. Sebastian Michaelis took out three _Fallen Reapers _all by himself." Well, two. Mathu Kelvin killed his wife when he absorbed her, but the monster Ironstadt was made up of twin brothers, Sasha and Samuel. That FR's spirit was so massive that it had to be separated into two bodies, so it was mostly true.

"Three_ Fallen Reapers_?" Decco said. "Who?"

"That's classified, but I bet Sebastian Michaelis would be clever enough to take you out." Knox smirked.

"Indeed." Decco gave a sarcastic disbelieving, thin-mouthed, narrowed-eyed expression. "But Sebastian is no threat to me. In fact, I was about to go 'visit' him and settle a long-standing score."

Knox sighed, shrugged his shoulders. "Can't you two just duke it out in a boxing ring and the winner gets a lollipop and the title of victor or something? A less violent solution to your problem where everyone goes home and we all avoid a massive amount destruction where we _Reapers_ would have to clean up the mess?" Okay, not even he thought that was funny. "Thann, let's go."

"Not without my brother," Thann said.

Decco unfolded his arms. "I think a demonstration is in order and _you_ Reaper will be _Epimetheus's_ first target."

Knox rolled his eyes, then gave _Epimetheus_ a look, seeing the large covenant branded into the monster's chest, his controlling mechanism. "Aw, crap! Why do I always get the tough jobs?"

* * *

With Mathu Kelvin's connection to Sebastian Michaelis broken, William T. Spears watched the events in the Phantomhive family cemetery unfold in the Looking Glass Receptacle in real time. The ghost known as Renfrew Phantomhive had fooled the _Fallen Reaper_, faking his death, and was now standing between him and the others like a shield.

It would be easy enough to look into the future and find out what happened to Sebastian Michaelis's - or Damascus's - wife and children, and if indeed Kassandra Symthe survived their birthing. Having twin demon boys could have been deadly. But a new element emerged in the dream sequence, the discovery of a _Fallen Reaper _back in the year 1667 who had taken the host of a human, possessing him, much like the _Fallen Reapers _did with Mathu Kelvin, his gypsy wife and the twin serial killer brothers Sasha and Samuel Ironstadt. And he wondered - what if more _FR _had done this? If so, then even the _Reaper X _team would not be able to locate them all if the _FR's_ masked their power levels within the bodies of their human hosts.

He would have to note this in a report.

On a separate note, as the situation had slowed down, he split the screen and looked to where Ronald Knox was. The Reaper should not have taken this long to track down Thann Von Strauss's spirit that fled from the Processing Centre, and reported back by now. If Knox was having trouble finding him, he would want the _Reaper_ to re-take the RTC, the _Reaper_ Tracking Course, a Level 1 Reaper course.

But as he looked into the Looking Glass he saw a disturbing scene unfolding: A large hideous, abhorrent, blood-colored looking monster was attacking Knox, being controlled by an insidious demon.

* * *

_Epimetheus_ was a fast and flexible monster for his size and he attacked Ronald with the same ferocity as a mongoose would a snake. In the wild, those two species of animal were notorious rivals and vicious towards the other, almost to the point of death.

But Ronald was smaller and just as quick.

After a succession of punches, that Ronald easily dodged and avoided, the Dining Hall began to look like something pummeled by cannon-ball fire.

Everyone had taken cover, or had run out of the way of _Epimetheus_ when he started his attack. Knox believed not even Decco anticipated just how vicious _Epitmethus_ would be in his strikes. The monster was pretty accurate, utilizing the brain power of two humans. Large monster, stupid monster? Not like Ironstadt. If it wasn't for Knox's swiftness, he bet he would be spattered on some wall as an afterthought blood stain.

Cool air of outside blew into the manor threw the holes _Epimetheus_ had made and moonlight basked the scuffed and scratched wooden-slated floor of the Dining Hall. The monster was about to attack again, when Decco held up a hand and _Epimetheus_ stopped. "If this goes on any further, the manor - my lair - will be destroyed," he said.

"You have a lair? What are you like three years old?" Knox mocked. "Kids have forts, too."

Decco didn't take lightly to the mockery. "You're like a little farm mouse running from a field cat."

"I'm not a fan of rodents," Knox said, "but I do like cheese."

"And a wisecracking mouse, at that."

"It easies the tension of the job," Knox replied straightly. "And it seems to me that a lot of you megalomaniacs are popping up everywhere lately. I'm only a _Reaper_, I don't get paid enough to fight monsters like this. C'mon Thann, time to go!"

"Not without my brother!" Thann retorted strongly. "Spencer comes with us, or we don't go!"

Time for some tough _love_. "He's not your brother anymore, he belongs to this demon now. He's a eunuch. He made his choice and now he has to deal with the consequences. Leave _him_!"

"No!" Thann rebuked loudly. "Spencer is my brother, and I love him! I will not leave him in the hands of this lunatic!"

Thann looked at Spencer and saw his eyes began to glisten with tears. "I love you, too, Thann!"

"You're a ghost, Thann. You're _dead_! You and he can never be together anyhow. However, I can tell you, whenever this demon gets tired of your brother, you and he will eventually meet each other in Hell for your transgressions. There's no getting around _that_. I can't get anymore involved in this. It's against Reaper policy to get involved in human affairs."

Decco laughed heartedly. "Priceless. Utterly priceless. Go, _Reaper_. Take him. One of the pleasures of being a demon is watching others suffer. And believe me, Thann Von Strauss, your brother will be serving under me for a very long time."

Thann growled angrily. But then he smirked. "There's a flaw in your logic, Reaper," Thann said to Knox. "There are no _humans_ here. There's only converted demons, so your policy doesn't apply here."

Decco smiled. "Very clever, Thann Von Strauss. Perhaps I was mistaken in not accepting your offer."

Ronald sighed. "Oh, for _Reaper's_ sake - technicalities. Thann, you don't understand. I can't - "

"Then I'll never go back with you, Reaper. As simple as that!"

Ronald had never allowed his emotions to get the better of him, but right now he was tried, he was cranky, and everyone was trying his patience. And if he was ever to _finish_ his mission, he had to bring Thann back to be processed or William would discipline him, and none of this was not his fault!

He gritted his teeth and folded his brow, his greenish-yellow eyes glowed with an intensity bordering on a ravenous hate, and for the first time that he could remember he had thoughts of murder, killing the whole lot of them. He always considered himself a happy-go-lucky guy, but right now he was utterly pissed off.

"Fine," he said bitterly annoyed. "Let's get this over with. I'm off the clock and I hate working for free! I wanted to rest up before I went to a party after my long shift. Looks like that won't happen. You've messed with the wrong Reaper, _demon_!" And with a snap of the forefinger and thumb of his right hand, he summoned his Deathscythe, a large mechanized machine that some said looked more like it would mow down grass than act like a Reaper's tool. But inside its housing were four sets of sharp, multi-layered, rotating blades that could rip through steel.

He gripped the curved handle with one hand and pulled the side cord with the other, and revved it up. It made a loud mechanical buzzing sound as he prepared it, increasing its level incrementally to its highest level. He planned to get down and dirty immediately and rip this monster apart! He easy tired of playing nice guy.

"What the hell is that thing!" Decco said over the noise.

"The instrument of your destruction," Knox said maddeningly.

"You greatly underestimate me, _Reaper_."

Decco twitched two fingers and Knox's Deathscythe was snatched from his grip and reversed with the housing pointed up and directly towards Knox's face, the rotating blades buzzing their jaw-shredding sound, deafening out all other sounds.

Knox's eyes widened with fear and trepidation. "Oh, crap!"

**To be continued…**


	29. An Exception To Every Rule

_**CHAPTER 29 - "AN EXCEPTION TO EVERY RULE"**_

At this very moment, Ronald Knox wished had had spent more time lifting weights than he did partying with girls as he held the edges of his Deathscythe at bay from ripping his face apart.

He felt the air breezing from the blades as they mashed together like the jaws of vicious animal. The very sharp blades buzzed with a deafening sound on their highest power level, which he now regretted setting, as Decco slowly forced it towards him.

If his own Deathscythe touched him, he knew he'd never be able to look in a mirror again!

No one could help him, no one _would_ help him.

Thann was a ghost, Decco would prevent Spencer from helping…and the others, well, they seemed indifferent to his situation. But before this all happened, not only had be felt Decco's power, but there was something very strange about that young boy. There was a hidden darkness in the boy.

But he felt no power from the old man, in fact, he felt nothing at all from him, as if he were a shadow of his former self, even a shell.

But that was something for later.

Right now he had a more pressing matter to contend with. Namely keeping his own Reaper tool from carving his face up like a Hallows Eve pumpkin. And if he couldn't stop it, no girls would _ever_ want to look at him, little less date him or invite him to any of their parties, and he'd have to wear a robe and a mask for the rest of his existence, and he would be most likely transferred to the _Robed Division_, where disfigured Reapers resided.

"_No! No! No! I'm a sexy Reaper and I want to stay as one!" _he shouted over the noise.

His Deathscythe got closer and closer, until all he could see were the blades that were about to rip his face to pieces, and if that happened, he couldn't watch and closed his eyes…

And suddenly the OFF button was pressed and the blades rotated down and stopped, the buzzing ceased, although he heard a ringing his ears. And his Deathscythe dropped to the ground, like a dead toy.

William T. Spears stood two feet away with his pincher Deathscythe in hand; he adjusted his spectacles. Had he saved him?

"A sexy Reaper, indeed," William said condescendingly.

"My savior!" Knox said merrily and then dropped to his knees and hugged William's legs. He was never so happy to see his boss.

"Compose yourself, Reaper Knox. Get up!"

Knox did, but he still smiled. "Thank you sir, I really appreciate you coming - "

"One of my employees was in trouble. I was watching everything. I can not allow this to continue." He turned to Decco, then to Spencer Von Strauss.

Knox frowned, snorted annoyed. William thought little of him, but his boss was always like that with everyone. He was the epitome of unyielding seriousness and order.

"And you, I take it, are the creator or this monstrosity?" William referring to _Epimetheus_.

"I am," Spencer said regretfully.

"With the power of creation comes great responsibility and you failed to heed to this crucial fact," William said orderly. "It is an abomination - against the natural order of things. Destroy it!"

But before Spencer could respond, Decco interceded, "Now hold on, _sir_. Who the hell are you?"

"William T. Spears, Head of Reaper Affairs. Your monster attacked one of my employees, and then you proceeded to harm again with his own Deathscythe…"

Knox met a sideways glance from William, and then looked away abashed.

To have your own Deathscythe used against you was not only an insult, but also an embarrassment. He retrieved flak from his fellow Reapers when Mathu Kelvin destroyed his previous Deathscythe before he rebuilt it, but as long as William kept his mouth shut there wouldn't be a repeat occurrence of that. However, with William, he was always a stickler for details in reports, and he'd more than likely include this "detail" in the report that brought him down here to save Knox. All that praise and boasting over the last couple of months after capturing Ironstadt just dropped out the window.

"_He_ was about to attack my monster," Decco retorted.

"You monster attacked him first," William replied calmly.

"Are you here to stop my plans?"

"Your 'plans' are insignificant to me, but they _are_ hindering my employee from completing his mission."

"Then have _your_ employee take his escapee soul and go home. I won't stop him."

"Not without my brother!" Thann demanded.

"You are like a parrot, Thann Von Strauss," Decco said. "Shut up!"

William adjusted his spectacles once more. "Indeed. Here lies the dilemma. Thann Von Strauss will be difficult if this issue is not resolved, so resolved it will be."

"Is that a threat, _Mr. Head of Reaper Affairs, William T. Spears_?"

"I don't make threats, Mr. Decco. I adhere to facts. You will reverse what you have done to Young Mr. Spencer Von Strauss and set him free of the covenant you have over him, and then we, with his older brother, will leave without further incident."

"Or else…_what_?"

"Don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be, demon. It is a simple, but _strong_ request."

"And if I refuse your _strong _request?" Decco folded his arms across his chest.

"Then you will force my hand."

William raised his pinscher Deathscythe and the rod extended with lightning speed up and into _Epimetheus's_ chest, directly through the middle of the large covenant acting like the heart of the monster.

Decco looked up. "Really now. You can't kill him like that."

"On the contrary, demon," William said. "The gravity of the situation is as simple as _that_."

_SNIP!_

William retracted his Deathscythe and it returned to its normal size.

_Epimetheus_ didn't roar, he didn't even make a sound. But suddenly the great monster dropped to its knees with a crash and then fell over in a heap with a thunderous boom. And it lain dead.

Decco's mouth dropped open wide.

"I cut its spiritual lifeline; everyone has one," William said. "Rather simplistic. We Reapers _can_ kill if it is deemed necessary, and as a demonstration was in order, I used your monster to fervor it. I am sure the _Reaperdem_ High Council will agree with my assessment of the situation and approve it after the fact."

"Good one!" Knox praised with a thumbs up.

William took out a small medicine bottle from a pocket and opened the top, pointing it at the monster. The souls of both McDermott and Thibeau were sucked inside. He sealed the top again, putting it back in his pocket. "I'll file a report about these souls when we return to the _Reaperdem_," he said.

The body of _Epimetheus_ then began to dissolve and sizzle, evaporating into steam, and eventually bubbled to hunks of wasteful tissue extracts.

Decco no longer had a shocked, dumbfounded look on his face. "Interesting. You wield such great power. Care to join me? Together we'll burn down the gates of hypocrisy and give true order to the cosmos."

"Your offer is both insulting and offensive. Reapers are beneath such megalomaniacal ideals, we have evolved to a higher state of being and consciousness."

"Now you insult _me_, Reaper. My ideals, as you put them, are much more than the frivolant domination of the universe, they are to bring order to chaos to a plane of existence that needs _true_ leadership."

William seemed to examine him for a moment, Knox observed. From Decco's statement, it wasn't difficult to figure out a civil war was about to erupt in the fiery depths of Hell and this demon was preparing a coup to be its catalyst. It was then safe to believe that these minions he had collected were not the only ones if he planned to battle against Lucifer. Did Decco truly plan to overthrow the King of Demons?

"My _only_ reason for coming here was because Mr. Knox was in danger from your tyranny," William said.

"That's too bad," Decco said. Not even a hint of disappointment of _Epimetheus's_ demise in his voice. "We could have struck up a powerful coalition. You, myself, and others I know - we'd set the world _aflame_!"

"That would be unadvisable," William saying straightly. "That would constitute more work for my staff and they already busy at it is. They have no time to pick up the remnants of your wave of chaos."

Decco shrugged his shoulders. "Wave of chaos, indeed. _But_ I know when I'm beaten…" He snapped two fingers. "Spencer, what I took from you is now yours once more." Spencer looked down his trousers and beamed with glee. "You are also free to leave my service."

"Seriously?" Spencer's eyes widened. "What's the catch?"

"I suggest you accept the demon's _more than _generous offer and not question it, Spencer Von Strauss," William said. "The covenant on your forehead is always gone."

Spencer involuntarily put a hand his forehead, but as there were no reflective surface he couldn't see it, he obviously had to take William's word. Thann nodded, smiled at him, and _that _told him it was gone.

But Knox knew Spencer was right. There was always a catch. Decco would not just release a minion from his _army of collective souls_ if it didn't benefit him in some fashion. But he didn't say anything. And yet, by this, Thann would agree to leave if Spencer came with them. Knox noticed something else, something was different with Thann Von Strauss now, too. He went over to him and patted him over.

"Hey, you're solid." He put an ear to his chest and heard a heartbeat. Knox looked into the man's eyes, and then snapped a look at Decco. "He's _alive_?"

Thann patted himself down and was equally shocked, but smiled ecstatic, then looked down his trousers. "And fully intact," he said, referring to his own genitalia. His clothes were no longer bloody either.

Spencer ran to Thann and they hugged in an embrace, crying. They murmured apologizes, and vowed they would start living _good_ lives, but the emotion by both brothers was lost on the cause of Decco's sudden relevance and generosity in restoring both Von Strauss brother's lives.

"Why?" Knox finally said curious.

Even William was astounded. "This is unprecedented," he said. "A soul restored back to the living? You do not have permission to do _that_! Paper work _must_ be filed to explain this."

William sounded a little flustered, Knox observed. William was always cool and collected. And a demon restoring a life went against policy and William hated it when others disobeyed the rules.

"Just accept it and move on," Decco said, waving a hand as if it meant nothing. "Now that I have freed Spencer and restored Thann Von Strauss back to their respected lives, you can leave us."

William quickly composed himself. Yes, this is what William wanted, so to speak. Now that Thann was _alive_ again, despite the reversal paperwork involved, they could now leave.

"Wait!" Thann spoke up. "What about Wilhelm and Johnny? They're innocent in all this, too."

Decco chuckled. "I would hardly call them innocent," he said.

Wilhelm Lazarus stepped forward. "All I wanted was for my little boy to live again," he said, "killed by that butler demon that now resides with Ciel Phantomhive. I have no qualms with Ciel's brother Lukas, but I will have revenge on Sebastian Michaelis and Ciel Phantomhive for that fated night when he ordered that demon to murder the entire Inner Circle and all the children slated for sacrifice to mask his own escape. And nothing is going to stop me. I willfully give myself to Decco."

"And I am staying with my father," Johnny spoke up. "Nothing will separate me and my Dad again!"

"And the Illuminati is nothing to me now, you can tell them such if you go back to them."

"You see, there is nothing left for you here anymore," Decco declared.

"But…" Thann started to say.

"Sorry Thann, it's not your fight," Knox said. "You have been given a second chance at life, not many humans get this; leave this to someone else." And besides, Knox knew the pair were too far gone. They were hollow inside, especially that boy. No human can be restored to life without their souls returning to them, and that boy did not have a soul. Decco was playing even Lazarus. "And that's not his son, Johnny," he said quietly to Thann. Knox put up a hand before Thann could speak. "I'll tell you later."

"I would advise you to leave now, Von Strauss and company," Decco said. "My patience is running thin and I have a timetable to keep."

"Timetable?"

Knox frowned. "I _knew_ this was too easy," he said. "You demons are notorious tricksters and diversionary tacticians. This was all pyrite play."

"I have not tricked anyone, Reaper Knox. Indeed, nothing _here_ has meant anything to me. It was merely to add a means to an end. You all mean nothing to me. My quarrel is with Sebastian Michaelis. After I have dealt with him, I will implement my plans to wage war with Morning Star."

William adjusted his spectacles for the third time since he arrived. Knox observed whenever William was intrigued with something, he's used the subterfuge of adjusting his spectacles before speaking, to ask for details of something. In card play, it was known as a 'tell' to tell others that you were interested.

"Your quarrel with Sebastian Michaelis, explain it to me," William said. "Do you see him as a rival? One whom, if able to, could, ultimately stop you in your plans to wage a civil war with your demonic lord?"

"I thought we weren't going to get involved?" Knox protested.

"An inquiry into why certain events are unfolding is not getting involved, Reaper Knox. Inquiring minds wish to know, so I can file a more detailed report. Then, if something needs to be done, _Reaper X _will be assigned to it."

"Fair enough," Decco said. "If it will extradite your leaving sooner…"

After Decco explained everything he had planned and wanted to do, William stood musing for a moment with fingers cupped around his chin. "I see, then you have no conflict with _Reaperdem_," he said. "While your plans are destructive in nature, we Reapers cannot get involved in your personal qualms, as per stated. And I have no reason to stop you…"

"Great!" Knox threw up his arms in protest. "More overtime!"

He knew if William would not do anything to stop this demon, his destructive rampage will eventually cause a lot _more_ work for his employees. The Reapers not only dealt with the human world, but with other dimensional worlds, as well. Knox knew Decco would not stop in his plight until he was master of the universe. It was the same with all psychopaths, they always wanted more. They were never ever satisfied.

William eyed him, but said to Decco, "Your scheme is overdone and frugal. Would you care for a revisal that will cost less loss of life and less work for my employees?" He looked at Decco.

"Huh?" Knox expressed.

"You wish to help _me_?" Decco said surprised.

"What I wish is less work for my employees," William corrected. "Therefore, if defeating Sebastian Michealis will save time and effort, perhaps a temporary accord can be reached. Once the demon is defeated, you can take you fight to your dimension and leave us."

"I don't believe this!" Knox said in total shock. "Sebastian Michaelis helped the _Reaperdem_ defeat the _Fallen Reapers_, who threatened to tear down the very fabric of our society and now you want to help this maniac kill him? Forgive me for saying, _sir_, but don't you have any gratitude?"

"Your tone borders on insubordination, Reaper Knox, and you misunderstand my intentions."

"No, I think I understand them quite clearly. It's all about numbers for you and paperwork."

"This is no way to speak to a superior. This will go in your file."

"Fine. Put it in my file, and I'll write in my report about this mission that you allied yourself with a demon for clerical reasons. An exception to every rule, huh."

"Whom do you think reads all the files before they are inserted into the Library of Information?"

"You have an answer for everything," Knox snorted angrily. "Thann, Spencer, I'm taking you some place safe. I'll deal with this traitor later."

William eyed Knox with contempt. "That will quite enough, Reaper Knox! Consider yourself suspended and when I return to the _Reaperdem_, a full inquiry will be brought to the High Council of your actions."

Knox didn't reply, instead he 'winked out' with Thann and Spencer.

* * *

When Knox 'winked in' again, they were in the front courtyard of the Phantomhive estate. As per William, he was suspended, so he no longer had to abide by Reaper policy, and most likely, he would be fired, but he had to warn Sebastian Michaelis of the coalition formed between William and the demon Decco. It was only fair, as Sebastian helped the _Reaperdem_ with the _Fallen Reapers_.

"You brought us here?" Thann inquired.

"With Sebastian Michaelis, you'll be safe, I think," Knox said.

Spencer's foot hit something and a metallic clang was heard. As it was a full moon and the entire courtyard was lit up with a light blue hue, at least a kilometer in every direction could be seen, but something was scattered across the front courtyard of the Phantomhive estate.

"What is it?" Knox asked.

Spencer picked up the metallic piece and examined it. "I don't know, but pieces like this are scattered everywhere." He then pointed to a blackened area, supposedly ground zero, where what looked like an explosion had erupted. "Oh no…"

Spencer ran to it.

"Be careful," Thann warned following.

They all went to the spot of the explosion where a hole was carved, not dug, out of the ground caused by what appeared to be a large explosion, something like what nitro would do to further advance a mining operation into a cave. Metallic pieces were more accumulated here, along with human remains. An disembodied arm was found, then part of a torso, and then other charred parts.

Thann examined the scene with Knox as Spencer followed on, and then suddenly Spencer dropped to his knees. Thann and Knox saw him drop and went over to him, as Spencer picked something up off the ground. It was the melted remains of a gold chain with a crucifix still attached.

Spencer held it to his heart, his head lowered, and tears suddenly began to fall from his eyes, down his cheeks.

"Spencer, what is it?" Thann asked.

"I gave this necklace to Trent as a symbol of our…_love_."

Spencer was no longer reluctant to admit to his homosexuality, at least in present company who knew.

Thann's jaw dropped in shock, as he looked around, seemingly now relevant of what the debris really was. "Is this the machine you and Trent built? The boxcar_ '_roadstir'?"

Spencer nodded. "But why did he come here? And how did this happen?"

Thann sighed. "Probably because of me. When Trent and Abberline fled from his home, I knew that they would travel to one of your safe houses, places you thought I didn't know about. I sent men to every house and burned them down. Seeing that they didn't have any other place to go, I wager that it was Abberline who warranted that they come here believing they would be granted sanctuary by the Phantomhive's from me and the Illuminati. So Trent's death is on my head. I'm sorry, Spencer."

Spencer turned to him, but with a smile. "I don't hate you, Thann. You could not have known…_this_ would happen. Perhaps Trent mixed the fuel incorrectly and it caused a backfire that ignited something. It was a prototype, and we did know there were a few things that needed constant caretaking."

Knox examined a larger piece of the debris. "I don't think so," he said. "This was done by a great force of power, not by human error. I can feel a supernatural residue on the larger of these pieces."

"A supernatural residue?" Thann said. "What do you mean?"

"There is also a static _electricity_ charge left here." Knox closed his eyes and shook his head. "Oh great, it better not be who I think it is…he was dragged to…"

"Who are you referring to?" Thann asked; Spencer stood on his feet, turned to them.

And Knox told them the story of Mathu Kelvin.

**To be continued…**


	30. A Clever Outcome

_**CHAPTER 30 - "A CLEVER OUTCOME"**_

"_THAT BASTARD!_"

The words echoed the quiet night, and everyone looked towards the mansion from the cemetery plot. The plot _was_ a distance away, but loud sounds _could_ travel long distances if carried acoustically, and as the plot was only a kilometer away from the mansion and the distance here from there was mainly flat, albeit a few rolling small hills, whoever's voice it was, seemingly traveled that distance.

"Who's voice was that?" Lukas said.

"Someone is at the mansion," Ciel replied straightly. But there were no way to be sure. "It sounds like someone has arrived in the front courtyard, but who could be visiting now?"

"I'll go see, Master," Finny offered.

Finny was the fastest of them and he could probably run the kilometer to the mansion in less than a minute, but Ciel suspected a sinister development. If Mathu Kelvin returned from Hell, whom had be brought back with him? Friends with sinister and malicious, even playful, intent?

He looked at Mathu Kelvin. "A friend of yours?" Ciel said, halting Finny with a hand.

Mathu Kelvin shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea," he said. "But I do _feel_ a supernatural power."

Ciel looked towards Salem, the Undertaker, and Grell Sutcliffe - both Reapers. "What do _you_ feel?"

"It's a _Reaper_," Grell answered, "and I recognize his power level. It's Ronald Knox."

"Knox?" Salem said. "Why would he visiting here? Ah, perhaps he was assigned to retrieve the young man's soul, Trent Banes…" He gave Mathu Kelvin a scornful look. "You didn't have to murder him."

"I did what was necessary at the time," Mathu Kelvin replied. "And it did get your attention."

"But why would he scream like that?" Abberline wondered, chiming in. "Someone who screams an obscenity like that may have been wronged or has found something of a great disliking."

"Grell, go check it out," Salem ordered.

And he did.

* * *

Grell Sutcliffe 'winked in' on the front courtyard, appearing right next to Knox. His sudden appearance resulted in Knox jumping back suddenly, jumpy.

Grell's blood red attire and hair looked for a moment like a sinister demon, that Knox thought Decco had sent after him when he, Thann and Spencer, escaped the Von Strauss Manor. But he was relieved to learn it was one of his fellow - or after William filed that report on him - on of his _former _colleagues.

"Grell," Knox said. "What in _Reaperdem_ are you doing here?"

Grell looked him, Knox knew he appeared a little scatterbrained at the moment, then at the others.

"I was about to ask you that very same question. Who are _these_ people?" Knox quickly introduced them. "I take it, you're not here to retrieve _this_ young man's soul?" he said, gesturing to the remains of Trent Banes.

Knox shook his head. "Boy, do we have a story to tell you and it involves our traitorous boss," he said.

Knox went through the whole story that included Decco, Thann and Spencer and others…all the way up to William's traitorous decision to help the demon. Grell, in turn, revealed Mathu Kelvin was back, and at present was holding the entire household hostage in the family cemetery plot, a kilometer away. And who had murdered Trent Banes in a demonstration of power, blowing up him and his vehicle, soon after he had brought First Inspector Frederick Abberline to the mansion for sanctuary.

"Not him _again_! How did he escape from…" Knox began to say about Mathu Kelvin.

"We don't know yet, he hasn't told us _exactly_," Grell said. "He's being elusive."

He turned and saw Spencer Von Strauss clutching tightly to a gold chain in his hands that had a crucifix with his face folded in a mean-looking scowl.

"Where is he? Get me a gun!" Spencer's voice was grisly.

"Bullets won't hurt him, boy," Grell explained. "He's not human, he's something _else_ entirely."

"Take me to him _now_! I want to see the murdering bastard!"

"I take it that that it was you screaming a moment ago?"

Knox nodded. "After I told him what my suppositions were, that Mathu Kevin had killed his friend with all the evidence I found - the supernatural residue and static electricity charge on the metallic parts...the pieces fit." Knox turned to Spencer. "I'm sorry for your friend, Spencer. But there's nothing that can done."

"Can you bring him back to life like Decco did with Thann?" Spencer asked.

"I'm sorry, we _Reapers_ can't do that. That was a rare happenstance. And there's not enough of him regardless." Knox knew that last part was a bit insensitive, but the truth had to be told. "I want you two to wait in the Phantomhive mansion until all of this is over."

Thann nodded, but Spencer didn't want to go. He was too angry to let the death of his friend just slide. Thann put his hands on Spencer's shoulders to help guide him to the mansion, knowing he didn't want to leave but it was necessary to get to a safe place.

He said, "We'll wait in the mansion, Reaper Knox, but if you can, kill the bastard for the both of us."

Knox nodded, but knowing that would not be possible due to Mathu Kelvin's supernatural powers. The Von Strauss brothers left the scene and entered the mansion, the door had been left unlocked.

When they were gone, Grell said, "Salem is here as well."

"Good," Knox said flatly. "Once I tell him about William, the pig _shit_ will fly."

* * *

"So how do you wish to handle this new partnership, Reaper?" Decco said. His hands clamped on his hips, as he stood in the Dining Hall of the Von Strauss Manor, his new lair.

"It is not a partnership, demon," William replied. "It is an association between two interested parties for mutual benefit." Next to them stood Wilhelm Lazarus and his son Johnny. "I will help you eliminate Sebastian Michaelis, and in turn, you will aid me in capturing a Fallen Reaper that has eluded my watch ever since I became the _Head of Reaper Affairs_."

"You scratch my back and I scratch yours. A equitable arrangement."

William adjusted his spectacles to settle them on the bridge of his nose. "A crude analogy, but nonetheless accurate. But this Fallen Reaper is very powerful. You will need all your tricks to defeat him."

"I have no tricks, _William_. I'm a _very_ powerful demon."

"Indeed."

William turned his attention to Lazarus and his son. The man seemed a bit stand-off'ish, but the boy had a confident glare in his eyes.

William was a man of facts, but this time he had to wager a guess because of a lack of facts. And he hated that. But it was an educated guess that Wilhelm Lazarus, former head of the religious cult known as the Illuminati, a world-wide organization dealing in every aspect of the human world's political and economic standing, didn't want to be here. His only intention, despite his declaration a few minutes earlier, was to be with his son. William didn't need facts to know that Wilhelm was indeed a family man.

And the boy, well, the boy was a different story. There was a darkness inside him. He was _not_ Johnny Lazarus despite outward appearances. Inside, he was something _else_ entirely. A body can not live without a soul, except if it is controlled by a supernatural being. Johnny was human, but his "emptiness" was not.

Johnny Lazarus had been brought back from the dead, but he was essentially a hollow shell inside, although he appeared to express no ill-affects of what Sebastian Michaelis had done to him two and half years prior when Johnny was slaughtered by Michaelis, along with other children, and the Inner Circle members present. It was to hide Ciel Phantomhive's escape. It was only later learned when Ciel Phantomhive came out of hiding, did the truth begin to unravel itself of what really happened.

However, due to a supernatural spell placed upon the amphitheatre at the time, the souls of Inner Circle members and the children could not be retrieved until after Mathu Kelvin and others returned to that place to open it once more, but possessed by Fallen Reapers. Albeit the spell did not work on humans and in the amphitheatre they murdered the remaining five members of the Inner Circle who had gathered in a failed attempted to reestablish the order. Grell Sutcliffe then had an encounter with the FR's, whereas Ronald Konx had to rescue him. A report was filed, whereas William began to become intrigued of the event.

"And their usefulness in all this is…"

"They are merely pawns, pay no attention to them," Decco said, waving them off. William knew Decco spoke the truth about Lazarus, but the demon was lying about the boy.

William observed Wilhelm Lazarus's brow furrow as if offended that he meant nothing to Decco, but the boy remained cool and collected as if he had already knew the fact and accepted it.

"In fact…" Decco waved a hand and suddenly the covenant on Lazarus's forehead vanished. "I don't need them anymore. You two are free to go. Willy's all I need _now_."

"That's William, not Willy," he corrected Decco.

Lazarus felt his forehead and then pulled back Johnny's hair. The covenant was also gone.

For the sake of appearances, William abided the lie, but he knew probably as soon as he stepped out of this house, Decco would kill Lazarus with a mere thought. "Go home, Mr. Lazarus," he said. "_Carpe diem_."

Lazarus smiled, probably with the believe that he had just been granted a second chance at life like Thann Von Strauss. He nodded. "Seize the day. Come Johnny, we'll start our lives anew."

The boy gave Decco a sideways glance and then followed Lazarus out the front door, out of sight.

"It's just you and me now, Reaper," Decco said.

William folded his arms across his chest. "You can stop with the lies. The boy is not alive, he has no soul."

Decco smiled.

There was a short, but loud scream. William looked towards the hallway. Almost immediately, the boy returned with a bloody human heart in one hand.

"The heart of a loving father," Decco said, extending a hand out. Johnny gave to him, still beating. Decco held it in his hand until it stopped beating. "It is said a human heart still beats a few minutes after the host is dead. It would appear the old man's heart had less _heart_ than I thought." He laughed as he squeezed it in his hand. Blood and fluid oozed out of its arteries and other orifices, dripping to the floor.

"There is no need for theatrics, demon. It does not surprise that you would do something like that."

"You disappoint me, Reaper. What would life be without theatrics? I believe Shakespeare said it best: _All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages."_

"Indeed," William agreed, then said,

"_All the world's a stage,  
And all the men and women merely players,  
They have their exits and entrances,  
And one man in his time plays many parts,  
His acts being seven ages. At first the **infant**,  
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.  
Then, the whining **schoolboy** with his satchel  
And shining morning face, creeping like snail  
Unwillingly to school. And then the **lover**,_

_Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad_  
_Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a **soldier**,_  
_Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,_  
_Jealous in honour, sudden, and quick in quarrel,_  
_Seeking the bubble reputation_  
_Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the **justice**_  
_In fair round belly, with good capon lin'd,_  
_With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,_  
_Full of wise saws, and modern instances,_  
_And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts_  
_Into the lean and slippered **pantaloon**,_  
_With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side,_  
_His youthful hose well saved, a world too wide,_  
_For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,_  
_Turning again towards childish treble, pipes_  
_And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,_  
_That ends this strange eventful history,_  
_Is **second childishness **and mere oblivion,_  
_Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."_

"From infancy…to death," William said, after reciting the full Shakespearean poem. "The _Seven Stages of Man_. William Shakespeare, one of England's foremost playwrights of the 14th and 15th century."

William evaluated which of the seven stages this demon appeared to be in at the moment. He chose: Soldier, as the demon wanted revenge for the transgressions Sebastian Michaelis had committed towards him over the years. But he was too blinded to the true reality that faced him, and he was a stupid soldier who has not learned the true meaning of "justice". In truth, the man was envious of Sebastian Michaelis, his rival; jealous that their master choose Michaelis to teach the secrets of the universe to instead.

Decco had abandoned his master's teachers believing he was a foolish old man with nothing left to teach him. The fact was Michaelis had done nothing to him to deem such vengeance. So that would also make Decco a child _and_ a whining schoolboy. This demon was mere jealous childish schoolboy, indeed.

He was in the worse of Shakespeare's seven stages and a man who has a child sense of reasoning.

"You are indeed a very well educated man, William," Decco said.

"I pride myself on facts and truth," William said. "But let us dispense with such things and get down to the direct issue at hand."

Decco's face took on a serious expression. "And that is?"

"Your rival Sebastian Michaelis. There is something you must know, which may be quite beneficial to your plight to kill him. A ghostly entity has put Michaelis under a sleep induced unconsciousness and he is currently dreaming. At this moment, he is currently laying in state in the Phantomhive family cemetery plot, with I may add, the Fallen Reaper Mathu Kelvin is also present, keeping the others at bay from helping him. Mathu Kelvin also has a _beef_, if I have used the word correctly, with Michaelis as well. Michaelis defeated him and sent him to Hell. But the Fallen Reaper has returned."

"Why is Michaelis asleep?"

"As punishment. The ghost, Renfrew Phantomhive, a distant relative of the family, did so to protect a secret inside Lukas Phantomhive's mind, a secret you might _also_ be interested to know involving your old master. Apparently, some time back, Lukas Phantomhive was approached by another demon who gave him this knowledge to keep secret, but locked it away - believing that someday with skills the boy possesses, Lukas Phantomhive, with his brother, Ciel, will be able to open it. The ghost was asked to protect it at all costs by both this demon and Lukas Phantomhive, who then asked that his memory of it be erased of it at that time."

"What does this have to do with my old master?"

"It seems a way has been found to open the void you placed _Belial_ inside."

Decco's eyes widened with utter alarm. "No, that can't happen! I won't allow it!"

"Then there is an urgency here. It is Mathu Kelvin who holds a piece of a dark gem called the Hope Diamond, which, with the boys, will unlock this void. But only Sebastian Michaelis, by his connection with Belial, will be able to open it."

"Then the Phantomhive boys must die to prevent this!"

"That is one option," William said. "A simpler option is to defeat Mathu Kelvin and take the diamond chip. Without it, the void can not be opened."

"So, are you saying, Mathu Kelvin is the true enemy here, and not Michaelis?"

"Indeed, I am. Defeat him, allow me to capture the Fallen Reaper's soul that is possessing Mathu Kelvin, and then you can, if you wish, crush Sebastian Michaelis at your leisure as he sleeps."

Decco nodded. "You are correct, that would be the most prudent and effective way to handle things." He then chuckled, and pointed a finger. "Very nice, William. You have made things much simpler for me. You are a credit to your profession."

William adjusted his spectacles. "Indeed."

"And you may want to do something about that _tell_."

"Tell?"

"You have adjusted your glasses every time your mind racers with intrigue. I'm not stupid. This is way for _me_ to do all the work. The most cost effective way for a Reaper, so no _overtime_ is incurred, is for _him _to get someone else to do all the work as _he_ observes the outcome. So you did not in fact betray you employee at all, but you did make him believe you had, so I would release all those souls _here_, and make him leave in quick succession with the others. All except _my_ son here."

Johnny smiled.

"That is so pedestrian, you are over-analyzing things," William said. "If you do not wish my help, then I will return to my regular duties. I am a very busy man to get caught up in affairs such as these."

"And you claim we demons are the tricksters," Decco said, almost admirably. "Go, if you wish. But your information about Sebastian Michaelis has proved useful. And once I defeat your pathetic and weak Fallen Reaper, I will kill Sebastian Michaelis. So, you have done me a great service in revealing certain things. I wondered why Sebastian Michaelis did not confront me before. I know he would have sensed my power level. Now that I know he is unconscious, there will be nothing to stop a surefire victory."

William eyed him with a thin, witty smirk. "I will be watching," he said, and then 'winked out'.

**To be continued…**


	31. Forgiveness And Resignation

_**CHAPTER 31 - "FORGIVENESS AND RESIGNATION"**_

There were very few lights on in the Phantomhive Mansion - but Thann and Spencer still managed to find their way through its seemingly labyrinth maze of corridors. Thann was quite impressed by the integrate design and somewhat gothic decore of the mansion.

He had heard the original Phantomhive Mansion had burned down more than three years earlier but it was rebuilt brick-by-brick to resemble the old mansion - the same exterior and interior. The remains of the old mansion were out beyond the main grounds, surrounded by a small stream that passed through the property. Ciel Phantomhive's family wealth maintained his accustomed life style, inherited from his parents.

In fact, according to England's richest families, the Phantomhive's were in the top five along with the Von Strauss family. The Phantomhive's were either second or third, he couldn't quite remember. The Von Strauss family was fifth, but there was another family quickly coming up from the sixth family, and if he recalled the name correctly, he believed _that_ family name was _Trancy_ and its sole heir was named Alois, a fourteen year old boy with a flare for the over-dramatics. But he did have a uncle who over-sought a lot of the family fortune, or claimed to do so…but it was Alois Trancy that lain claim to his parent's estate.

However, the Phantomhive's were beyond rich, stinking rich, as some would say. And when it came to _influence_ within the Magistrate and with the Queen - Ciel taking over his father's unofficial mantle as her royal guard dog - Thann would have to say, the Phantomhive's indeed surpassed _all _easily.

The _Funtom_ Cooperation among other subsidiary businesses kept funding their wealth. And with Lukas Phantomhive consistently drumming up dealings with his suave business sense, the Phantomhive's not only had the toy market sealed, but they were also expanding into the food and clothing industry, among others.

Weeks ago, Lukas Phantomhive had even asked for a meeting with the Von Strauss family to possibly strike up a business partnership in _their_ leather business. Their father had not decided, and with the recent investigation by Inspector Abberline involving Lukas Phantomhive at the time with information fed by Spencer, he was probably more concerned about the connection with the Illuminati, that the meeting with the Phantomhive's to talk business was not among his first priorities.

But anyone who was in business with the Phantomhive's had a good future. Every other business associated with the Phantomhive's showed a large profit margin due to their _brand_ and quality name.

And _now_ Thann was the head of the Von Strauss family. With his father dead, perhaps it was time he looked into seeking new allies to help _his_ family business expand. He had vowed to fully disassociate himself from the Illuminati and all its members. If he kept his mouth shut maybe they would leave him alone. But he was only _hopeful_ thinking. Nothing stopped the Illuminati once they made up their minds and if they indeed, as he assumed they might, come after him for what he knew about them, it was best to make certain assurances to keep the legacy of the Von Strauss family alive.

Perhaps along with a business association would also come other _perks_…like maybe protection? As Sebastian Michaelis was the Phantomive's butler, and a demon, could be also be persuaded to help them with the Illuminati like he did with Ciel Phantomhive against the _Inner Circle_? But the _Inner Circle _were nothing compared to the Illuminati and he wondered if one demon would even _be_ a match against _them_?

"Where's the armory in this place?" Spencer said. "A place this _big_ has to have a weapon's room or, at the very least, a Game's Room with a hoard of guns!"

"What do you plan on doing, Spencer?" Thann said, turning his attention to his anxious looking brother. Spencer's eyes seemed to be examining every room they came across for some form of _something_. "You heard the Reaper, Ronald Knox, Mathu Kelvin is beyond our touching. He's _something_ supernatural now. Bullets can't hurt him."

"He must have a weakness, Thann," Spencer said, entering into what appeared to be a large study. "Everyone does, every_thing_ does. We just have to find it and exploit it."

Spencer immediately went to the desk near the large bay window and attempted to rummage through the drawers, but when he tried he found the top drawer was locked. He pulled at the handle and unfortunately yanked too hard, it came off in his hand. But he continued the search the rest of the desk and the room.

The words: "exploit it", rang in Thann's ears. He had exploited his brother's weakness and Decco had then used it to his greatest advantage which then brought about a series of events resulting in Thann's death. It was only by the grace of God that things had reversed themselves and Thann's life was restored. The neck bands with the crucifix's he and brother once wore had one time been a fashion statement, but now, at the first opportunity, he would adorn another one and truly thank the Lord for shining His grace upon thee.

"Spencer, you must settle down. There's nothing we can do for Trent. We have to let the Reapers handle Mathu Kelvin. We've been given a second chance at life. Let us not waste it with bitterness and hatred."

Spencer looked at him, his eyes bloodshot from crying, but now they were filled with an anger. "I lost two people I truly loved, Thann - Krystal and Trent. You have no idea how I feel!"

"Spencer, I do understand. And I nearly lost you. We nearly lost each other! And I know you _still_ feel anger towards me for what happened to Krystal. So now is the time - say what you want to me."

"Say what, Thann? That I will forever hate you for murdering our sister?"

"Yes, precisely that."

Spencer shook his head. "I have already forgiven you," he said.

Thann pointed an accusatory finger at him. "No, you haven't! The anger and hatred still burns in your eyes. And I am truly sorry for what I did to Krystal. There is nothing I can do to bring her back. So if you plan on killing anyone with a gun this night you can point it at me and finally quench your feelings."

Spencer's mouth gasped open. "You are being foolish, Thann."

"Like you, thinking you can enact a revenge upon a supernatural being. If we attempt to attack Mathu Kelvin, we will surely die." Thann went to Spencer, he put his hands on his brother's shoulders. "Before all this, I thought the Illuminati were the most powerful thing on this planet. But after meeting Decco, Knox, and all the others, and seeing what they can do, and now knowing all that we know, and that a terrible battle is brewing between powerful _forces _we can neither fight nor win, all _we_ can hope for is to live our lives by God's grace, that He has granted us _a second time_."

Thann stared into Spencer's eyes, hoping his words would get through to him. Hoping that all the hate he still had inside him would soon to be replaced with faith instead. And for a moment they didn't move, they just stared into one another's eyes. Seconds ticked by - until Spencer averted his eyes and nodded. Thann let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding and smiled. He knew it would be difficult for Spencer, but he would help him get through the pain.

"However, let us continue looking for a gun," Thann said.

"But why? You said it would be useless against Mathu Kelvin."

"We are human, and humans have _human_ enemies, as well. And I would feel better if we hand some protection from an enemy we may evoke the wrath of once I tell them to _go get stuffed_."

"The Illuminati?"

Thann nodded. "With what we both know, the Illuminati may send their assassins against both of us now. Father protected you, but it wasn't until you began to tell Inspector Abberline the Illuminati's secrets, did he send two assassins, and then made sure I brought you back to break you. He wanted me to kill you, but I thought with Decco I would merely scare you _straight_." He smiled, knowing the double-entondra of the word _straight_. But he didn't care about his brother's sexuality now, accepting it. "I know it will only be a matter of time before the Illuminati will target me for what _I_ know about them. We are _both_ targets _now_."

"Then, we will be on the run for the rest of our lives?"

Thann nodded. "I'm afraid so. Unless an accord can not be struck between them and I?"

"An accord? What sort of accord?"

"Like I said, Spencer. I know _so much_ about them. With the secrets I possess, I could easily expose them and bring everyone associated with the Illuminati down."

"But Lazarus doesn't care about the Illuminati anymore."

"Lazarus, himself, was merely a pawn for the bigger fish I know of. As the Illuminati's envoy, I was privy to so many secrets they safeguarded me to protect. _So many secrets _that I could now use against them."

Spencer smiled, but then he frowned. "But that would mean that they will _definitively_ send out assassins to try to kill you. They'll try to wipe out the entire Von Strauss family to safeguard themselves."

"They can try, little brother, but not only do I _remember_ every little dark secret, but I have also made sure to document them all, too, and have placed them in a safety deposit box buried on the Von Strauss estate. Every name I was privy to, every deed I was told to do and against whom. Principle players, associations, business affiliations and political factions for not only England, but also for the America's, too. So even if they _do_ kill _me_, _you_ can take everything to the media and expose them."

"You're brilliant, Thann! But I don't want you to die!"

Thann smiled. "One of my truly regretful things for which I only recently have been abided to was getting associated with them in the first place. But I did not want to disappoint father. Notwithstanding, what I should have been doing was being a better example to _you_, Spencer. I failed in this. You _are_ the better son."

Spencer cupped a hand on Thann's hand on his left shoulder. "To forgive is divine, Thann. And I forgive you. For everything." Spencer smiled.

And Thann truly saw the forgiveness in Spencer's eyes.

"Now, let's go find a gun," Thann said.

* * *

When Grell Sutcliffe and Ronald Knox winked in, they found themselves standing in the middle of the Phantomhive family cemetery plot, basked by the hue of a full moon overhead.

Despite it being the night preceding the day of the Winter Solstice - December 20th, (1889) - the temperature was abnormally warm for this time of year, even at night. So when Knox saw both Phantomhive boys without winter attire on, he was not too concerned with their comfort, or the servants. But he also felt a little power emanating around them, as if someone - Salem - was generating an invisible shield of protection around them, not only from the night temperatures but also as a barrier from Mathu Kelvin, who was standing apart from the main company.

Salem was a renown Reaper in the _Reaperdem_ and had earned respect from every Reaper. He was the prime person to go to if any information was needed before going on a mission, as Head of Information and in charge of the Reaper Library. Some said he was even higher than William, the Head of Reaper Affairs. And after Knox told him about William, that _truth_ may even become a reality.

"It seems the whole gang is here," Knox said off-handedly, as he briefly gazed at the others. The Phantomhive servants were gathered, including one person he did not know - a tall, red-hair gentleman in a trench coat. Sebastian Michaelis was laying on the ground unconscious with a ghostly apparition hovering near him standing between him and Mathu Kelvin, whom, at the moment, looked normal, and not as the human lightning rod Knox had last seen him as. "Some of which I know, some I don't," he then said.

Brief introductions were done by Grell.

"Now that you are caught up to speed, Reaper Knox," Mathu Kelvin chimed in, after the introductions. "Care to explain to us why you are here? And what happened to the two humans you brought with you?"

Knox growled. "Don't you touch them. They are under _my_ protection now."

"_Your_ protection? I thought you Reapers couldn't get involved in human affairs?"

"I resigned."

Both Salem and Grell said in unison, "You resigned?"

Knox sighed softly. "Well, I will resign, or I'll be forced out, either one - once William reports me to the High Council after I told him off. Our great leader has aligned himself with a demon. He plans on helping Decco, a very powerful demon, to murder Sebastian Michaelis after he defeats Mathu Kelvin."

"Are they now," Mathu Kelvin said causally, but also inquisitively.

Salem stepped forward. "William has been after the Fallen Reaper now currently possessing Mathu Kelvin's body for quite some time," he said. "After Kelvin was dragged to Hell, William thought he had lost the FR forever. This is his chance to capture it, and he succeeds, he could be in for a promotion."

"Like I said to him before I left him, he only cares about numbers and paperwork," Knox said. "William and that demon are now inside the Von Strauss Manor making plans _talking_ business."

"William is a statistician," Salem continued, "and the High Council think highly of him. William helps them keep order. But there have been rumblings about a new order rising within the _Reaperdem_ that could drastically shift their power, and if certain things happen, then every Reaper who was cast out and labeled as Fallen, will have a new day in court and may be reinstated."

Mathu Kelvin's eyes widened, but then Salem smirked. "But not you. Not for what _you_ did. You nearly changed the course of human history ten thousand years ago, destroying an entire civilization."

"But look at the rumors it started," Kelvin said. "Atlantis, the Antediluvian World, the sea-faring people with a technological so vast in its comprehension that it destroyed them. Who was it that told the original story, the Greek Philosopher _Plato_, a well respected and truthful man within his society at the time."

"You showed them how to harness the sun's power to build explosive bombs and how to focus the sunrays with crystals into a compressed beam with massive destructive power! If the Reapers didn't step in, authorized of course by the High Council to put an end to your 'playfulness' despite you once being a respected scientist, the descendants of the _Atlanteans_ may just rule the planet right now. You were punished appropriately along with your wife, for which Reapers back them were not allowed to have relationships with one another _with_ your stubborn-as-a-mule, very out-spoken brother-in-law."

"Appropriately punished indeed," Mathu Kelvin retorted with an amused snort. "I've heard quite a few other out-spoken Reapers have been exiled like I was since I have taken possession of this host body. And rumors are abound, with other Fallen that I know, that even _you _do not like them and have said things of their disliking."

"My opinions are my own, but I do not spew them unnecessarily and without facts. The High Council can not argue when validity is behind an argument with others backing me. Regardless of that issue," he turned to Knox, "Mr. Knox, tell me the whole story with William. What exactly did _he_ promise to the demon?"

Knox nodded, turning his attention back to the moment. He didn't know half the things Mathu Kelvin and Salem had been talking about, the politics behind the scene and they were shocking. He blinked, quickly collecting his thoughts. "William's a traitor, he said - "

Suddenly William 'winked in', and stood studiously in front of Knox, Grell and Salem.

"And speak of the devil," Knox finished, grumbling angrily.

William tilted his head slightly to the right. "I am not _the devil_, Mr. Knox. Control yourself, and your demeanor does not coincide with a man of your profession. Adhere to what you were privy to, allow me to explain and correct any misconceptions."

"You don't need to explain anything, _sir_, you sealed a bargain with a demon! That was clear."

"Unfortunately, the demon saw through my obvious ploy." A thin smirk crossed William's face. "No bargain was had. Well, not by _me_ anyhow."

Knox narrowed his eyes confused. "But I heard you. You agreed that the demon could do whatever he wanted and we Reapers would do _nothing_ to stop him!"

"That is incorrect, Mr. Knox. I told him it would be beneficial for a revisal of his plans if he attacked Mathu Kelvin first, then if he chose, he could handle his business with Sebastian Michaelis afterwards.

"And why did you pit him against me?" Mathu Kelvin said curiously, putting his hands on his hips.

William sighed, and Knox saw frustration in his face.

"William, I think an explanation is in order," Salem said.

"I was about to get to that, Salem."

"You see, Mr. Kelvin, an hour before, through your eyes, I was listening and watching to Sebastian Michaelis's dreams as you were, and I heard you explain to everyone here afterwards that you were not here to attack him, but to help Michaelis free his mentor, whom has been held captive _somewhere_ - in a void -for a very long time, and for which only Michaelis has the power to free him." He pointed to what was in Kelvin's hand. "That blue gem you have - which is also a piece of the Hope Diamond, a very accursed diamond indeed - along with the Phantomhive children, will help him do so. Lucifer's general _Belial_ has been lost for a long time. Even the Reaper's have lost track of him. So when it was said that Michaelis's _master_ was locked away, it wasn't difficult for me to put the pieces together. And with this Decco on the loose, _Belial_ is the only one, I am sad to say, according to biblical lore, who has the power who to stop Decco in his foolish plight of a engaging in civil war in Hell that will seriously cause a great deal of untold chaos, violence and destruction in multiple dimensions, including _Reaperdem _itself. Sebastian Michaelis will not be able to defeat him, even after he awakens. He will be much too weak from all the stain placed on his mind in dreaming, put into this state by Renfrew Phantomhive."

"Go on…"

"Fighting you will give Michaelis the time he needs to awaken from his induced slumber, hopefully. Once he awakens, the _door_ to his void can not opened and all this nonsense can be put to bed, so to speak."

"How do we you know _Belial_ won't attack us?" Knox asked.

"Because he will want revenge on the one who put him there, namely Decco, one of his old pupils," William explained. "And after almost 400 years of disembodied isolation, he, like all demons, will want to take out his wrath on someone. And we will provide him with exactly the person to do so. But Decco is a very powerful demon and smart, we can not underestimate him in the slightest."

"So our survival depends on when and _if_ Sebastian wakes?" Grell said.

A sudden clearing of someone's throat brought the group discussion to a halt and those in the Reaper circle looked down at Ciel Phantomhive, whose diminutive statue looked very small compared to all their tallness.

"I do _enjoy _being kept abreast of things," Ciel said acutely and arrogantly. "Please, do tell the rest of us what you inner circle of _Reapers_ are discussing as it may involved us _humans_."

"This does not concern you, Ciel Phantomhive," William said tautly. "You and the others will make your way to your homestead and wait until it is safe. A very dangerous demon will be arriving soon."

Ciel sneered. "How dare you call my mansion a homestead! It is a - "

William's eyes glowered. His lifted an arm and suddenly Ciel was levitated above the ground to his eye level. "I am normally a patient man, but you are trying it, and I have so much work to do. Being _here_ takes me away from other important things. There are events unfolding that you and the others will get hurt if you are not herded to safety." He snorted annoyed. "Mr. Knox, you will escort Ciel Phantomhive and the others back to the mansion and stay with them, as you _accidentally_ left your Deathscythe at the Von Strauss Manor when you left rather abruptly and will be of little use to us without it."

Knox cursed. He knew he had forgotten something. "You better do as he says, Ciel," Knox said calmly, now that he knew William was not a traitor. Sometimes William's way of doing things was systematic and mechanical like and he not always understood it, but William never stopped thinking. He was like a person who plays serious games and who always thought three steps ahead, knowing just how to manipulate his opponent, in this case, the demon, to do what he wanted. "I'll make sure they stay safe."

"And with my powers, I will protect Sebastian," Renfrew Phantomhive said, stepping into the conversion, "as you battle the demon. I will shield him as best as I can."

William nodded, and put Ciel down as Lukas Phantomhive ran over. "What's going on here?" Lukas demanded.

"We are to stay out of these affairs," Ciel finally conceded, looking a little defeated. "I was told this is not our fight and we are to cower away in our 'homestead' like little field mice."

"That is not how I put it," William said, "but essentially, yes."

"But what about Sebastian?" Lukas said.

"He is to remain here, as he is integral to _their_ plans."

"But he will be defenseless!"

"Not so, Lukas," Renfrew said. "I will be taking care of him until he awakens. And if I am not mistaken, he is nearing the end of his dream and life cycle…"

"I certainly hope so," Kelvin said. "I would like to know what happened with his wife and kids. His life, from what I saw, was very interesting before he came to reside here. I will fight this demon of yours if only for the answer to this interesting tidbit. I will like Sebastian to tell me."

"Kids?" Lukas said shocked. "Sebastian has children? And a wife?"

"Are you surprised, Lukas?" Ciel said. "He is a demon. I would assume he has sired many offspring in his time. But as for a wife…that _is_ surprising."

"There is a lot you don't know about him, do you?" Kelvin said. "He isn't your atypical demon."

"Yes, well. He is my butler and we have a covenant," Ciel said. "That is all I need to know. I called upon him during my greatest time of direst. He has vowed to eliminate everyone who has done me wrong, including Bryon Kelvin - your uncle. It has come to our attention that he is the catalyst in my family," he looked at Lukas, "_our family's_ hardships, and we _will_ find him and we _will_ kill him."

Mathu Kelvin chuckled. "Good luck. He is a very elusive man. And he has many friends."

"That's if we survive this night," Lukas said solemnly. "Strange things happen on the Winter Solstice and we are nearing the ghostly hour of midnight."

Ciel produced a crooked, thin smile. "If we don't survive, then I won't have to worry about buying you a Christmas present."

Lukas's mouth dropped open. "You haven't bought me a present yet? But we were shopping just the other day. Are you telling me we spent hours in town and you only bought something for Lizzie?"

"Did you buy anything for _me_?"

Lukas averted his eyes. "Well, no. You're hard to buy for and I am still getting to know what you like. We have only been reunited for six months. What do I buy a person who _has_ everything?"

"Indeed."

"Master! _Master_!" Finny cried out.

"Oh deary me," Mey-Rin then said, cupping her hands around her cheeks, slightly blushing.

"Is he…_smiling_?" Bardroy said.

Ciel and Lukas went to Sebastian, as did Knox, a Reaper observer, where the Phantomhive servants were all gathered around the demon butler. He looked so peaceful in his restful state, laying on his back but in the dirt with his head slightly askew to the right, his eyes closed. But it surprising to see that Sebastian Michaelis had a broad grin on his face while he was unconscious.

"What could it mean?" Tanaka wondered.

"He must be experiencing a happy memory," Lukas wagered a guess. Ciel nodded, concurring.

Knox wondered the same thing.

**To be continued…**


	32. The Winds Of Change

**_CHAPTER 32 - "THE WINDS OF CHANGE"_**

_"But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him."_ - 1 Corinthians 2:9

Damascus smiled with a broad grin. He had never considered himself a religious man, but as he sat next to Kassy in chairs watching their five year old twin boys roughhousing with eleven year old Tristan Phantomhive in the back courtyard of the Smythe family home - which was now his home - he had never felt happier.

In his ten years as a Roman citizen, he thought he knew the world according to what he observed and experienced in Pompeii - he thought a fisherman's life was his fate. When Vesuvius erupted and _killed_ the city and he was asked to make a choice between life and death by Master Belial and to become a demon, he never would have conceived that he would be living the life he had now - albeit pretending to be human.

At this moment, everything else that had occurred in his life was moot.

William and Beautiese and Miles and Mary Phantomhive had gone away on a trip together leaving Damascus and Kassy alone with the kids, including Tristan, for which they were happy to look after. Tristan was such a good boy and the twins enjoyed his company, looking up to him like a brother. And already Tristan had begun teaching them about the star constellations and the planets in the sky.

Like many school children now due to the London Fire in 1666, six years ago, Tristan was home-schooled. Tristan had been home school from the beginning, much like his twin boys were beginning to be. But Damascus wondered if Tristan would become a teacher when he grew up because he was so smart and so knowledgeable in so many subjects of interest such as math, science, chemistry, English literature and, of course, astrology.

Bryan had been wrong. _His_ boys had been born with their mother's temperament and good graces. Although, every once in awhile, Damascus would have to sneak away and obtain soul nourishment for them to feed to them in their sleep, but they were not demanding as Bryan had once claimed they would be. And he was not ashamed to admit they were more human than demon lineage.

He had never been more proud of anything or anyone in his life than of his twin boys. When they were married, Damascus didn't have a surname like most humans did these days and took Kassy's - Smythe. It was unusual, but _Kassandra, husband of Damascus, son of Barracus_, was not only was too long, but didn't sound well - so Damascus decided to break from tradition of the wife taking the husband's name and took hers, this way, his boys would also have a very strong surname. As the origin of the name Smythe meant "blacksmith" - a very strong individual who used his imagination to build sturdy things with his hands.

They were good boys, and the only difficulty when they born was what their names would be.

Kassy wanted more modern names, but he wanted something that catered back to his Roman heritage - although, he couldn't say such, and in the weeks before their birth, they "fought" over names. But later, when he actually thought about it, the names he had in mind were either very rare, outdated or had famous history behind them, and he wondered, would other children compare or make fun of them because of such? He didn't want that, so he agreed on two choices Kassy wanted, for which now, he couldn't see calling them anything else: _Braydon_ and _Brandon_. They were close in wording, but as twins it made sense. But later, to make things easier for the kids and for their vocabulary, they shortened them: _Bray_ and _Bran_. Later in life, if they choose to restore their full names, they could do so.

When Bryan come out of the kitchen with a tray of snacks and drinks for the kids, they ran to the manservant excitedly. He barely had time to put the tray down on a table before the kids began snatching the little cheese sandwiches and little plastic cups of juice, devouring them like "little demons" - and then returned back to playing.

Just recently, Damascus had recited a Roman tale of a Greek wrestler who was so powerful than no one could defeat him. According to Roman mythos, this wrestler was undefeated since he entered the wrestling scene and crushed all his opponents in record time. He was built like a god with massive muscles and was very intelligent in his fighting ability. It was said the Roman Emperor at the time adorned him with riches beyond the wings of avarice. Unfortunately, he had a heart-_attack_ and died one day as he was training. Damascus delivered a morality to the story: _Treat your body like a temple. Build a good foundation and you will live a long and healthy life. Treat you body roughly, like the wrestler did, and your life will be short._

The boys enjoyed the story and the next day, oddly enough, they began to act like wrestlers, emulating the story's idol. He wasn't sure if the true ideal of the story got through to the boys, but they were kids, and they probably thought it better being strong than being smart. They were kids, they didn't know any better _yet_.

Bryan served Damascus and Kassy with a second tray he retrieved from the kitchen after the first. It was a warm, summer day, and larger sandwiches and tall glasses of lemonade were certainly in order. Bryan seemed to know exactly what was needed or wanted, like he was reading their minds. And for which Damascus still had suspicions Bryan could do such being a _Fallen Reaper _possessing Bryan's body.

"Thank you, Bryan," Kassy said, taking a sandwich from the tray. "I don't know what we would do without you these last couple of days…" She stopped, and blinked several times.

Damascus saw her eyes were becoming glossy.

Only a week ago, her father had died of natural causes in his sleep. William and Beautiese were on their vacation with the Phantomhive's, sort of a second honeymoon for both of them, so they had not been told yet. A funeral was held regardless because the preservation of the body would not last until them returned in another month, and he was laid to rest in a marked graved on the edge of the forest surrounding the house.

Kassy loved her father dearly and often broke down crying these last couple of days. Bryan presented a handkerchief to her as if anticipating another crying spell. She took it and wiped her eyes, but did not cry further. Damascus knew she said she wanted to be strong in front of the children, but he knew human attachments were sometimes stronger than even the strongest of wills.

Damascus had also loved the man, who had been so kind to him over the years. And he was always so good with the boys. He hated to see Kassy so sad on a day that only moments before felt to him like a rebirth of sorts. He loved her more than life itself and he stood up, said, "Kassy, it's alright dear, don't hold it in."

She stood up as he went to her and he hugged her, she cried in his chest.

Damascus said, "…_Then he charged them and said to them, 'I am about to be gathered to my people; bury me with my fathers in the cave that is in the field of Ephron the Hittite, in the cave that is in the field of Machpelah, which is before Mamre, in the land of Canaan…' _

"_There they buried Abraham and his wife Sarah, there they buried Isaac and his wife Rebekah, and there I buried Leah… When Jacob finished charging his sons, he drew his feet into the bed and breathed his last, and was gathered to his people. As he neared death, Jacob made his wishes known. He wanted to be buried in Canaan with his family in the field of Machpelah…_

_"(And as) He reflected on his death—he wanted to make sure that everything was in place_. - Genesis, Chapter 49, 29-33."

Kassy looked up at Damascus, her eyes were filled with tears.

He smiled sweetly and said, "To be absent from the body is to be with the Lord, my dear." He wasn't a _godly_ man, but he knew his words would give comfort to Kassy.

"Thank you, Damascus," she said. "You always know what you say to ease my breaking heart." She no longer cried, but she stayed with him in his arms with her head pressed against her chest. He wrapped his arms around her, emanating warmth.

"I will always be here for you, my sweet."

He suddenly caught a glimpse of Tristan as the boy looked back at him. The boy was very smart and instinctively - he seemed to know what to do.

Tristan kept Bray and Bran busy, so not to let them see their parents in a sad moment, or they too, most-likely, breakdown and start to cry for their grandpa. He believed the twins didn't truly understand the concept of death _yet_, and probably thought their grandpa went on vacation like their uncle and aunt. But children are very smart these days, and maybe they did know…

But the last thing he wanted on this _happy_ day was to see everyone crying.

Later in the evening when the sun sunk below the horizon and the stars twinkled like little dots in a clear night sky, Damascus stood in the threshold of the open kitchen door watching Tristan engage the boy's attention - they taking turns looking through Tristan's telescope his father had bought for him and brought with him. Kassy had went to bed early feeling tired, but he didn't feel tired in the slightest.

He sipped a hot cup of coffee.

He didn't sleep much being a demon, so when Kassy and the others fell asleep, he and Bryan would spend the night hours talking about general subjects - when he wasn't gathering soul nourishment for his twin boys to feed them as _they_ slept. Bryan didn't seem to mind it. A person - even a demon - had to do what needed to be done to survive and that even meant killing other _less desirable_ people for food. In this day and age, how could someone condemn another for trying to survive while others wasted their lives?

Bryan came to stand next to him. He had been busy cleaning the house and had just finished for the day. "Your mind seems occupied, my friend," Bryan said lowly. "Care to share your troubles?"

Bryan only spoke to _him_, as everyone else believed the manservant was mute. But five years ago he had revealed to Damascus who "Bryan" really was - how Kassy's father used to abuse Bryan _badly,_ retaining him on as his boy-servant; that a supernatural spirit now possessed the real Bryan's body. Bryan also revealed that he really enjoyed serving the family, that it make him happy to do so giving him purpose again. But he also made a declaration: that if Damascus or his children ever harmed the family, Bryan would kill them all.

When Bray and Bran had been born _normal_, with no demon tendencies to speak of - their temperament calm and tranquil - Damascus's mind eased. Bryan's threat no longer occupied his mind for five years, but something _else _was indeed troubling him now, and it did infer to Bryan's threat. But Bryan could always pick up on when something was bothering him, hence the reason for the inquiry.

"Kassy is pregnant again," Damascus said, worried.

Bryan looked at him surprised. "Then congratulations are in order, not melancholy."

Damascus shook his head. "Something is wrong, I can feel it."

"With the child? How long is she along?"

"We just learned of it last week, so not long. But there is a dark energy building inside the fetus." Damascus took a sip of his coffee. "When Braydon and Brandon were born, and they turned out _normal_, happy, like typical human children, I didn't want to jeopardize the future with testing the water and having more children that did not turn out like they did, so I insisted on wearing what people are calling a 'condom'. But they don't seem very effective."

"So it broke or it leaked and Kassy became pregnant once more, and now what I feared five years ago will coming to pass - and you are worried that my declaration then will be fulfilled now?"

Damascus nodded. "This child is already very powerful and _he_ is only five days old in Kassy's belly."

"How do you know it is male?"

"Because _he _spoke to me in a dream."

"He _spoke_ to you in a dream?" Bryan's voice grew louder. "There _are_ medical methods now that can abort the growth of a fetus, if such a thing needs to happen. It is invasive, but it can be done."

"And how will I explain it to Kassy? 'Please, sweetheart. We must abort the baby because I feel a dark, ominous power from it'?"

Bryan calmed himself and spoke evenly. "What did _he_ say to you in your dream?"

"It was not a voice as we would hear one, it was more of a _feeling_ - within a blackness beyond dark. And the only way I can truly describe this _feeling_ is 'malice' towards the world. I also _felt_ that he _will_ be born no matter what we do."

"Then we must prepare."

"But what can we do?"

Bryan looked at Braydon and Brandon through the open doorway playing with Tristan _goodly_. "Pray."

"Pray?" Damascus said in disbelief.

Bryan shrugged his shoulders with a smile. "It was only a joke, my friend," he said.

"I know, but with both us - we will find a way to protect your family."

"But your declaration?"

"Is no longer valid. You are a good _man_, Damascus, and your children are _good_. If a way can be found to stop this evil from rising, we will do so together."

Damascus nodded. "Thank you," he said. "You have been a trusted friend and confidant all these years and I have relied on you more than I can ever repay. Ironic, that a Fallen Reaper and a demon can be friends?"

Bryan put a hand on Damascus's shoulder. "You are _my_ family now. And family protects family. And no, I don't find it ironic at all, Damascus. They say a leopard can not change its spots. But that is only on the outside. On the inside, so many changes can be made." He smiled. "Philosophically speaking."

Damascus smiled.

"I don't know if a demon has ever done what you have done _here_, building such a wonderful family, and wouldn't want it destroyed by an unnecessary evil," Bryan said. "I will see what I can do to help alter the baby's temperament during Lady Kassandra's pregnancy. Perhaps something _can_ be done."

* * *

Decco lounged upon his throne constructed of the skull and bones of dead humans and animals weaved together by tissue fibres, strengthen by blood extracts. His lair was deep beneath the Von Strauss Manor. He sat watching those at the Phantomhive estate - in the family cemetery plot - via an Eyeball Viewer that stood at eye-level near his throne.

The Eyeball Viewer was a large eyeball with an enlarged pupil situated on top of a tall stand, thin stand, grown and hardened with human muscle and tissue. Within the viewer _pupil_, Decco was able to see anything he wanted at a whim, like a god watching his children from afar.

Johnny Lazarus knelt on one knee on the floor in front of the throne. Despite the covenant on his forehead was gone, which was only a ploy for Wilhelm Lazarus's sake - who was now dead - the real covenant, a much larger one, encompassed Johnny's back. And he was fully loyal to his lord and master Decco, whom he now called Father.

Johnny was essentially a part of Decco. Decco had taken a part of his own dark spirit and put it into the boy's body to resurrect him - healing all wounds the boy sustained at the hands of Michaelis's slaughter of every man, woman and child in the amphitheatre being used by the Inner Circle. So in truth, the boy _was_ his son now, and Johnny expressed his own hatred of Sebastian Michaelis and Ciel Phantomhive for ordering his butler demon to do such a horrid thing when all the members of the Inner Circle were dead. There was no _reason_ to kill the children.

To Ciel Phantomhive, there was - to hide his escape.

All Johnny's memories were intact, the only difference now was _this_ Johnny Lazarus was filled with hate and malice mirroring that of Decco. And he also watched the Eyeball Viewer. There were a lot of people standing within the Phantomhive cemetery plot - talking.

Merely talking, and plotting.

On either side of his blood-tissue lair stood two of Decco's most loyal demon allies - Nailz and Pyro, who arrived when summoned to their master's beckon call. With _Epimetheus_ gone, Lazarus dead and Spencer Von Strauss's life returned back to him along with his brother Thann, in a moment of gratis - a true leader must be ruthless but also possess a certain amount of compassion as well, but Johnny waged it was done after the Reaper William T. Spears destroyed _Epimetheus_ easily and the sooner _he_ was gone the better, so Spencer and Thann's lives were given back; not a moment of weakness, but one of strategy; Decco didn't know anything about the Reaper, so to fight an unknown enemy was unwise - Decco needed more minions. And Nailz and Pyro were two of his most powerful ones.

They also informed him that his personal army was almost ready to attack Hell. He knew Morning Star was expecting an attack, but it would be a civil war unlike even the Holy War in Heaven. It was time to bring a new order to Hell and _he _will be its new King of Demons.

"Father, I wish to convey concern with your obsession with Sebastian Michaelis," Johnny began cautiously. "From what you have told me of him, he is nothing compared to your great and mighty power!"

Decco chuckled over the use of the word 'obsession'. "I do not have an obsession _with _Sebastian Michaelis, Johnny." He started calling Damascus by his new name because that is what he was calling himself these days with his covenant with Ciel Phantomhive, so he accepted it. "His existence mocks me and insults _my_ kind. He is not a true demon, born human - but granted demon hood by a _kind_ gesture."

"Your old master," Johnny said.

"Correct. _Master_ Belial can never be set free from the void I sealed him in, no matter what others claim." But even he was beginning to have doubts after what he was seeing on the Eyeball Viewer. Mathu Kelvin had explained a scenario that could work to free Belial if the conditions were right, but it all hinged on Michealis waking. "But what if they are saying is true? What if a way _has_ been found to fee Belial?"

"You are wise and powerful, I can not see something like that occurring," Johnny said.

He mused out loud for a moment. "Ciel Phantomhive was given _the mark of the beast_; the Reaper said Lukas Phantomhive was approached by another demon and given knowledge of Belial, but then his memory was erased of the event and _this_ knowledge, a ghost, Renfrew Phantomhive, a distant relative of the family is now protecting it. And he is powerful in his own rite. Sebastian Michaelis was close to learning this secret, so Renfrew Phantomhive put him to sleep, and now he _dreaming_…"

"Could the ghost have had a hidden motive to render Sebastian Michaelis unconscious?"

Decco straightened in his throne, his right hand opening and closing as his eyes looked at nothing in particular, his mind racing with thoughts of something he could not put his finger to. Could there be a conspiracy here - something against _him_ that was in the works? Could everything that is occurring be leading up to _something_ that involved him? Could Sebastian Michaelis be faking? No, it had to be coincidence only. Nonetheless, if he wasn't careful it could lead to his destruction, and everything he worked for over the years could go up in smoke.

He shook his head. "I won't fight Mathu Kelvin, something is not right here." He looked at Nailz and Pyro successively; they came to stand out in front of his throne as if mentally summoned. "You two will go, learn the truth about Sebastian Michaelis. If he is truly 'sleeping', then I will come. But do _not_ engage the _Fallen Reaper _or the others unless enticed. Understood?"

They both nodded in unison and then 'winked out'.

"Aren't you being overly cautious, father?" Johnny said.

"There is no such thing as being 'overly cautious', Johnny," Decco said. "I believe the old Chinese military strategist, Sun Tzu, said it best: "_For to win one hundred victories in one hundred battles is not the acme of skill, (but) to subdue the enemy without fighting _is_ the acme of skill._ So in essence, scouting out your enemies and then exploiting their weaknesses to the fullest is the true art of war and victory."

"But Nailz and Pyro are…"

"Weak? I know, but they have their skills. And when they engage them and I know they will, I will be watching, and Mathu Kelvin's weaknesses and the others will be mine to exploit. Then only when the _Fallen Reaper _is subdued, I will destroy Sebastian Michaelis and the others with ease."

Johnny Lazarus smiled. "You are brilliant, father. A true military genius."

"If they think I am going to walk straight into a hornet's nest, they are sadly mistaken."

* * *

The baby was born stillborn - or that's what Bryan had claimed when he helped deliver it without the care of a qualified nursemaid. But in truth, he had _stilled_ it himself as he gradually brought it out of Kassy's womb using his powers to make it appear dead and lifeless.

Damascus agreed it had to be done as he felt - and could still _feel_ - a great, dark power emanating from the newborn. And it was still never much alive.

He used his own powers to help calm Kassy - although she felt no pain during the pregnancy. But he knew she would need comforting when she saw the newborn was stillborn.

Bryan shook his head as Kassy looked at him, hoping for the slight chance that he was wrong in her baby being stillborn. Bryan wrapped the baby up in a blanket covering it completely and took it away.

Damascus agreed, he didn't want Kassy to see the newborn still and "dead-like".

"I'm sorry, Kassy," Damascus said, holding her hand as she lain in bed, tears falling down her cheeks. And he _was_ truly sorry. Not only was it Kassy's child, but it was also his child. But he knew it had to be one to safeguard the rest of the family, and only he and Bryan would know the truth of the situation.

Kassy had lost her father only last year and now she had lost her newborn. Their happy little lives were beginning to crumble and become filled with hardship and sorrow now. But even he knew nothing lasted forever and the winds always changed. Notwithstanding, he would _not_ let this destroy their family. He would do anything to make Kassy happy again. Anything.

William and Beautiesue came into the room, and he left. He would let her brother and sister-in-law console her now until he could return.

When the door was closed and only he and Bryan stood outside, walking further down the hallway, the newborn still in Bryan's arms, stilled, Damascus said, "What will we do with it?"

"We will bury it and hope it suffocates itself to death," Bryan said coldly but honestly. "But it is growing stronger by the minute, soon my powers will not be able to keep it lifeless for long. We must do it _now_."

Suddenly, Damascus felt two sets of eyes looking at them from further down the hallway. Braydon and Brandon were standing together, their gaze upon the newborn wrapped fully in a blanket in Bryan's arms. Damascus waved them over. "I'm sorry, but your little brother didn't survive," he said.

"Please father," Braydon said. "Do not lie to us."

"We are aware of what he is, what we are…" Brandon started.

"We could _feel_ his dark energy within Mother for these last nine months," Braydon finished.

Damascus looked at Bryan, and Bryan said, "I didn't tell them."

Damascus crouched down to their eye level. "When did you _discover_…?"

"Through you father," Braydon said, and Brandon nodded. "All those late night feedings, all the special _soul nourishment_, as you name it. We also overheard you telling Bryan one-time."

All of a sudden, he realized Bryan had _spoken_ in front of them.

"But we are fine with our demon lineage," Brandon said with a smile. "We accept it."

The twins then looked at Bryan. "And we have known for the longest time that you can talk, Bryan," Braydon said. "And we know what and who you are."

Brandon smiled. "Call is demon intuition," he said.

"They are very smart children, Damascus," Bryan said. "I believe the word is prodigy."

Damascus wondered that, and perhaps this is why the boys spoke so elegantly at this age as well. He stood up and smiled. "Then you know how to keep a secret," he then said, about the infant.

The boys nodded.

"He is still alive, we can feel it," Braydon said.

"He is our little brother, but he can not be allowed to live," Brandon then said albeit coldly.

"He is dangerous," they said in unison.

So they did understand, Damascus thought. The child must be killed, so it can not be allowed to unleash its deadly power upon the human world.

Bryan handed the infant to Damascus, and said, "You must do it quickly, I can feel him awakening. I will keep Lady Kassandra and the others busy and tell them that you have gone to bury the child."

Damascus nodded. "Thank you, Bryan."

Then he left, with Braydon and Brandon.

They headed deep into the forest that surrounded the property, Braydon picking up a shovel before they left, and once they got into a secluded area, Damascus handed the child to one of them, and began to dig when handed the shovel. After he dug a sizable hole, he put the infant into it and began to cover the child with dirt. But he began to hear its muffled cries as the dirt buried it. Once it was buried fully, silence resumed. He hoped without soul nourishment and air, it will soon die.

It was difficult to think such a thing, but he knew it had to be done.

As they walked away, a bright red light suddenly appeared, and Damascus looked back to see a strange _man_ holding the infant in his arms, the hole open. He was human in appearance, and wore a long dark robe with red down the sides. He had long white hair bushed back. The man gazed at Damascus with narrow distain.

"You have lost your way, Damascus," the man said. "The child is mine now."

Damascus shook his head - is the man who he thought it was? "Please, he is too dangerous," he said.

"I gave you a mission and instead you settled down with a human woman to have off-spring? You are a disappointment, Damascus. I will task another to look for Belial and I will take the child to train. I can feel his power," Morning Star said, opening up the blanket to reveal the infant's _lively_ face. The infant seemed to gurgle with a happiness with he saw Morning Star's face. "He is very strong. I need strong demons."

"With all due respect, my lord, I believe you are making a mistake."

Morning Star's eyes glowered a deep crimson. "Do not tell me what I can and can not do, minion! You were granted demon hood by Belial during an act of benevolence. At the time, and from your process, I was pleased with Belial's choice in you. But you have disappointed me greatly." He let out a soft grumble. "Decco will be dealt with accordingly, I am aware of his actions in attempting to build an army against me. But he will fail. And I'm afraid more hardship is about to befall you, Damascus, your _wife_ is dying."

Damascus turned his head sharply towards the house, and then back. But Morning Star had had vanished with the infant when he did. He and the boys then ran back to the house.

In the bedchambers, Kassy looked very pale when Damascus arrived, with William and Beautiese and Bryan around her. He looked at Bryan and he gave a short shake of his head, as if they both knew what was happening. The birth of the infant had done something to her, poisoned her somehow, and now she was dying from it. The others made their way out knowing Damascus would want to be alone with her.

He knelt down next to the bed and held her hand. "My sweet, I am so sorry," he said.

She was covered up to her neck in their large bed comforter blanket and she looked at him with tired eyes. He knew after giving birth she would not have the strength to fight off this poison. It was demon poison, even another demon would have difficulty with it - so Kassy would not have a chance.

As he held her hand, he tried to burn the poison out of her blood, but it multiplied at a very fast rate. He could not keep up with it.

Had the infant planned this? An intelligence at work that was beyond even his comprehension? Was it revenge resulting from when Bryan paralyzed it in the womb to make it look like it was born stillborn? He had sensed a dark power and an intelligence from the baby even months before. Unlike his twin sons, Braydon and Brandon, the baby must have drawn on his demon half.

He could feel Kassy tried to squeeze his hand, but she didn't have the strength - and she felt cold, very cold. "You are…unlike any man I have ever…known, my husband," she said softly.

"Please, don't speak. Save your strength."

"No, Damascus. I must say…what is on my…mind." She took a long, drawn out, deep breath. "When we first met, even before, I felt you were different - you are a part and yet are _not_ a part of this world."

Damascus's eyes widened, but then he tried to hide his fret. "I don't understand," he said.

"My special gift told me you were not _fully_ of this world, but I chose to ignore it because I fell in love with you." She very gingerly raised a hand and placed it on his left cheek. "And I still love you. Whatever you are, Damascus, you _are_ a kind and gentle man."

He cupped her arm in both hands. "My dear, your mind is playing tricks on you."

"Don't lie to me, Damascus. I am dying, and I do not want my last memory of you to be a lie."

He momentarily averted his gaze from her and nodded. "You are correct, Kassy. But I was _born_ human. I am in fact over two thousand years old and I lived in ancient Pompeii. A _being_ granted me a choice to live or die in the volcanic eruption that destroyed the city and I chose to live. He trained me, taught me how to be _live_ - and I learned quickly. But I became bored and wanted something more and returned to my human roots. I wanted to try something new. And then I met you and my ultimate wish came true."

She gave him a weak smile. "I knew you were _special_."

She did not seem aghast that he just admitted he was a demon, despite her religious beliefs. And yet, he realized, he had not actually said he was a demon - only that a _being_ had granted him a second chance at existence. Maybe subconsciously he didn't want her to know _because_ of her religious beliefs, that it would frighten her, that he didn't want her to know that she had given birth to three demon offspring. But did she already know? And yet she still remained with him?

He returned a smile. "You are the _special one_, Kassy. I know the Lord is calling you home." He had just been called a disappointment by Morning Star because of his interaction with humans and having a family, but he didn't care. "I love you, Kassy…"

But she was gone.

Her eyes were closed and her heart had stopped beating.

He lowered his head down into the sheets, and then cried. He was a demon, and he knew _most_ demons didn't care for "attachments", catering to their own whims. But he was not like _most_ demons. He was half human, and now that half begged for release.

And he found himself shedding tears uncontrollably.

He truly loved Kassandra.

And he mentally prayed that _her_ God would forgive her for the "sin" in _loving_ a demon.

**To be continued...**


	33. Full Circle

**_CHAPTER 33 - "FULL CIRCLE"_**

As Damascus sat alone in a chair in the backyard of the Smythe family home, he had his face in his hands reflecting on recent events. He was dressed in a black suit and had just returned from a funeral. The sounds of nature were quiet today as if they knew he didn't want to be disturbed, as if they knew he was a demon and any noise they made may cause him to lash out at them at any moment and devour their life energy.

But he was not angry, and nor did he want to harm anyone or anything. He felt hurt and sad. All that he had had been taken away from him recently by an unforeseen force. Soon after Kassy's death, further tragedy struck the family, and Damascus wondered if Morning Star had placed a curse upon them as punishment for _his_ "attachment" to humanity.

A month after Kassy's funeral, William died of alcoholic poisoning after a heavy drinking binge in a London pub. Investigation into his death at the pub where he collapsed from too much drink said he was sad about his sister's death and was drinking to try to forget. It had cost him his life. Soon after William's death, Beautieuse died of an infection from an insect bite.

After everything was said and all the funerals were done, today's was Beautieuse's, only Damascus, the boys and Bryan remained of their once close-knit, happy family - all resulting _after_ the birth of Damascus's third child that Morning Star had stolen away.

Damascus reflected if what he had said to Morning Star, warning him that taking the child was a mistake. Had it sounded like a threat to Morning Star? And did it set off a chain of events with Morning Star as the puppeteer? He didn't put it past Morning Star and he could not hate his Master for doing so.

Damascus had set aside his demonhood to return to his human roots. Obviously this was not allowed or frowned upon and Morning Star punished him for it. Therefore, he decided, things _must_ return back to a certain _demonic_ normality. When he made his _choice_ to life back in Pompeii, he knew there would be certain sacrifices made. And that meant he would have to set aside his humanity. Over the years, he thought he could balance the two and have the best of both worlds. But he had been wrong.

Bryan came to him, put a hand on his shoulder, breaking his sorrowful reverie. Braydon and Brandon were with him.

At this point, Bryan thought it was time for _him_ to move on, and he was dressed to leave. But Damascus needed one last thing from him. He stood up.

"Please, take Braydon and Brandon with you," Damascus said, almost pleading. "Train them, show them the world. I _must_ make amends to Morning Star for my transgressions…" He looked at his boys. "I…_love_…my boys, but I do not want them ending up like the others and Morning Star has a terrible wrath when crossed, and I do _not_ regret siring them."

"How do you know Lucifer did these things to William and Beautieuse?"

"It is within his sinister nature to do so. He killed everyone whom I cared for as punishment in his disapproval of me attempting to root myself back to my humanity - for my _lack_ of demonhood."

"So you wish to return to his good graces?"

"In a matter of speaking. I am who I am. Braydon and Brandon are quarter demon, they do not yet possess the skills to protect themselves if Morning Star wishes to harm them. Therefore, I wish to place them in your charge because I know _you_ possess a massive power to protect them if need be. And I am also worried about Decco finding out about them. _If_ you are willing to undertake their care? Temporarily."

"I have no problem caring for them, but as for their training, that is something for their father. And what of their _soul nourishment_? I can not provide _that_."

"We are young, Bryan," Braydon said, "but we can handle ourselves in _that _regard." Brandon concurred.

"But take small bites and _chew_ your food slowly," Damascus said facetiously. "It will last longer."

Bryan snorted a smirk. "I thought demons couldn't have what human's did, but you have proven me wrong, Damascus," he said. "I will care for Braydon and Brandon. You can leave them in my charge with trust. I do not know anything of demon training, but I will teach them what I do have knowledge of - _Reaper-deum_; their defensive techniques, offensive maneuvers and weapons/_deathscythe_ training."

Damascus shook Bryan's hand. "That will be fine, as long as they will have a working knowledge to protect themselves from _my_ enemies. And perhaps one day, we can be a family again."

"We do not wish to leave you, father," Braydon said, running to Damascus and hugging him. Brandon did the same. "Come with us, we can learn from both of you."

Damascus patted their heads, brushed their hair with a hand each. With Kassy, he had disguised his demon-figures, such as black fingernails, but now it didn't matter. Braydon and Brandon's fingernails were not black, a sign that they indeed took more after their _human_ mother. And he was not offended by that. Kassy was a loving woman and his twin sons were kind and generous just like her. He wished only the best for them, and if having to send them away to protect them while he amended his _wrongful _transgressions in Morning Star's eyes, then that was what needed to be done, for now.

Braydon and Brandon had tears streaming down their faces. It must have been very hard for them. Only a year ago, they lived happily with the _whole family_, now everyone was gone, and he was sending them away, for _him_ to go away. Would they be resent of him later in life or will they come to understand his sacrifice? Only time will tell. But at least they will be with Bryan, whom they had known all their life.

He wiped the tears from their eyes, and smiled. "Believe me, my sons, this hurts me more. But I must do this to protect you. Hopefully someday things will change, but you will be with Bryan." He looked at them with a determinate smile. "And trust me, we _will_ meet each other again…"

* * *

"We are about to have visitors," Mathu Kelvin said, looking around. The moon was not directly overhead anymore and the "witching hour" had past, but the entire Phantomhive family cemetery plot could still be seen clearly in the moon's hue. He could not see anyone other than present company, however the _feeling_ of others transcended that. "Transients are en-route."

Ronald Knox looked sharply around, as if trying to sense what Mathu Kelvin was _feeling_. Salem nodded, he appeared to feel it too. William agreed.

Grell was clueless.

"Are you sure?" Knox said, Being only a Grade XX Reaper, he didn't have the power to feel what the others were as their grades were much higher and training more involved. Grell was the same. Mathu Kelvin, on the other hand, was in his own grade. He was a _Fallen Reaper_.

"The dimensional winds are rifting," Mathu Kelvin answered. "With my powers, I can feel the winds shifting. I can feel two transients moving towards us, albeit cautiously."

"Wait. What are _train-sea-ants_?" Lukas asked, trying to sound it out.

"_Transients_," William corrected, "are spirits that move between dimensional gateways."

"Like doorways," Ciel put in.

"Correct, like doorways." William nodded. "It is the same principle of winking in and out, as some say. Much like the blinking of an eye, to be more simplistic. No you see something, now you don't."

"I get the analogy, Reaper." Ciel looked around. "And you _Reapers_ can detect these transients by merely feeling the dimensional winds displaced through an enclosed doorway like air pockets?"

William cocked a brow. "Impressive, Ciel Phantomhive. That is exactly what we can do, _some of us_." He looked at Knox and Grell. "Those who have been properly trained in it, that is."

"You'll have to show us this trick one day, sir," Knox said.

"I will make sure when we get back to _Reaperdum_ that you and Grell are enrolled in classes."

Mathu Kelvin narrowed his gaze, his eyes unfocused, as if feeling the dimensional winds more in depth. "But they are taking their sweet time," he said. "Do you think they are lost?"

"I don't think so, but they _are_ moving cautiously…" William answered. "Now I feel _four_ of them!"

Mathu Kelvin nodded, his eyes still unfocused. "Two separate sets of transients now," he said. "One set more skilled, and the other…very sloppy. Wait, the skillful pair have vanished."

Suddenly two grossly looking individuals winked in - one was a tall, lanky male with protruding fingernails and long, stringy hair, and the other was smaller male, more robust with chubby cheeks and bald. The tall one wore clothes of a dark yellow and the fatter one wore blood crimson.

"Who the hell are you!" Ciel demanded.

"Well, look Nailz. It appears we have stumbled into a den of rats," the pudgy demon said somewhat facetiously to the lanky one. Then he saw Sebastian lain on the ground near the others. "Is that who I think is it? Then the rumors are true. And if we destroy him, the master may reward us handsomely."

"We are only to report back to the master, Pyro," Nailz said.

Mathu Kelvin scratched a cheek with a finger. "You wouldn't be minions of Decco, would you?" Pyro and Nailz eyed at him. "I will take that as a yes. So the master sends his lowers to fight me instead, does he? I thought the coward might, in attempt to ware me down so he can pick up the scraps like a dog." Kelvin gave the others a brief glance, and they quickly backed away. Then Kelvin erupted into a brilliant electrified, as Knox would say, human lightning rod. "I don't frighten easily; I didn't when I was human and especially don't _now_. If you want Sebastian Michaelis, then you'll have to get past me first!"

Pyro readied himself, but Nailz put a hand in front to halt him. "We are not to engage unless enticed, those are the master's orders. And if what we see here is true, then fighting will not be necessary," Nailz said intelligently. "The master will come, and I am sure he is watching right now."

"Your master is watching right now?" Mathu Kelvin said, then made a rude gesture with a loud _raspberry_.

Obviously they did not think highly of that, and Pyro snorted angrily. "He doesn't look too dangerous," he said boldly, and a flaming ball erupted in his hand. "I can _also_ spit fire," he then said.

Mathu Kelvin smiled confidently. "All joking aside - and it is good to have a sense of humor during stressful times to alleviate the tension - I assure you, gentleman, if we do fight, you wont expect to see tomorrow. For I am indeed a very dangerous man."

"An arrogant fighter is a foolish combatant," Nailz said smartly.

"Care to test that theory?"

"We don't have to." And Nailz suddenly raised his right arm and pointed his fore and pinky finger, the fore at Ciel and the pinky at Lukas Phantomhive, with his fingernails slowly beginning to extend. "With a mere thought, my nails can race towards those kids and kill them instantly. How fast do you think you are? This is mere formality. If you attack us, the kids will die. So, what shall your decision be? Hold or attack?"

"And if we chose the latter?" William said, suddenly coming up from behind Nailz with his Deathscythe pincher at the ready. He then not only snipped Nailz's nails, but also both fingers at the quik.

Nailz screamed in horror and in agony, but William didn't give him time to retaliate with his other hand or regrow his fingers that often demon's had the ability to do like some lower base creatures like worms or lizards that lost limbs, and repeated a maneuver he performed to _Epimetheus_, and punched his Deathscythe through Nailz's back and quickly snipped the demon's "lifeline". Nailz's face froze like a statue, mouth agape, eyes wide open - when his body suddenly solidified and then crumbled to dust. In certain religious cultures, it held the same principle as splashing "holy water" onto a demonic entity to kill it, only with Reapers, they didn't need anything other than their Deathscythe.

"I thought we didn't get involved in human affairs?" Knox questioned.

"As you recently pointed out, Mr. Knox," William replied, "there's an exception to every rule."

Knox smiled.

"Only the fat one's left," Mathu Kelvin said. "And the thing about blubber is, the added fatty tissue is a great conductor of electricity." He went to launch an attack, but Pyro was too quick - and winked out. "No doubt gone to tell his master what to expect." His body still electrified, his eyes crimson red - he expected another attack, looking around. But after a time, nothing came.

"So you are _here_ to help us?" Lukas said to Kelvin.

He looked menacing, but he did just protect Ciel and Lukas Phantomhive from certain danger and death. "I am here until the message and package…" He held up the piece of the Hope Diamond, looking at Sebastian still unconscious lain on the ground, "…gets delivered. After that, you're on your own."

* * *

Decco rolled his eyes in disbelief and frustration at what he had just seen through the Eyeball Viewer as he sat on his throne in his lair beneath the Von Strauss Manor. Pyro had returned, and within moments of such, Decco had him turned to stone as punishment, becoming a permanent fixture of his throne room. The demon's face was aghast with shock and horror, his last moments of life before being solidified.

"And Nailz was the more intelligent one, too," Johnny remarked, he too had watched everything occur. "You ordered them not to engage unless enticed."

"Yes, those _were_ my orders," he said straightly, as if not needing to be reminded of them. "And they disobeyed me, as I thought they would. However, I never expected the Reaper to get involved. And I did not achieve what I wanted, namely to see Mathu Kelvin in action to exploit his weaknesses."

"They were stupid, and Nailz threatening Ciel and Lukas Phantomhive was equally foolish, even if he was only attempting to _prevent_ them from fighting. But that's what gave _them_ incentive to attack first. They are all protecting Sebastian Michaelis until he awakens. There may be no way to beat them all."

Decco eyed Johnny. The boy could be right, he thought. With all of them there, the chances of defeating Mathu Kelvin without the others getting involved was slim to none. "I suppose the old adage is true. If you want something done and _right_, you must do it yourself."

"Not so, father," Johnny said. "There are always other options. I may be a part of you, but I do have ideas of my own. Let me fight him."

"You?" Decco's expressed shock and surprise. "But you're just a kid? And I don't want to risk you."

"I am much stronger than I appear, father. You remember, I was dead for nearly three years - or rather _Johnny Lazarus _was. Within that time, living in the underworld, I burned with a hatred of what Sebastian Michaelis did to me. But I also have the ultimate power of all - the innocence of a child."

Decco tilted his head confused. "And, what does that prove?"

"Trust me, father. I will make them falter. I will drive them to their knees and sow the seeds of doubt and discord within them, and then I will destroy them including Mathu Kelvin. I will turn ally into enemy. But I will leave you Sebastian Michaelis to kill. You will be able to watch everything from here."

Decco shrugged his shoulders. "Very well. Impress me, son. And if you succeed where Pyro and Nailz failed, you will stand at my side when I become ruler of Hell."

Johnny smirked with a sinister grin and then winked out.

* * *

"Think carefully. Should you reject the faith even this once, the gates of paradise will forever be out of your reach," the disembodied voice said from within the amphitheatre.

His "eyes" were on the naked, battered eleven year old boy on the marble rectangular alter covered with a sheet from the neck down, the aroma of blood filling the air.

He had stopped Time momentary - a trick he had learned during his travels to many erotic _worldly_ locations with the use of his powers and training - after he had heard the child "summon" for help. The members of this "secret cult" had actually summoned him to _them_, in a futile attempt to control him.

Blood sacrifices were given, words of enchantment spoken, sacred script written on the walls, the aroma of incense in the air - but all these theatrics meant nothing to him.

He only came through the gateway for one purpose. He smelt _familiarity_.

He eyed the child through a blanket of haze made from torchlight smoke and incense, the boy had an almost pleading look in his eyes but also a stare of hatred and malice.

He could feel the boy's soul searing with a delicious darkness at what these group of people were doing to him and to others in an act of betrayal; they were dressed in white ceremonial robes and masks, killing innocent children as blood sacrifice to summon a demon to learn its _otherworldly _secrets. There was also a hidden _dark_ history within the boy that he felt, but as of yet not privy to, and that interested him.

These _people_ had succeed in summoning a demon, _but_ he was here for this boy. And his purpose was of his own design, not theres. And he would try again to evoke a self-discipline that he had attempted over the years; the act of savoring one's food made it taste more delicious. But he knew things _must_ be set upon firmly so there was no doubt of its validity and so no _Other_ can deny it!

An almost angelic, feathery atmosphere began to fill the amphitheatre. White feathers fell from an unknown source, suddenly, as if attempting to shield the boy from _his_ presence. As if God didn't want him to have the boy. But even this "shield" of protection would not stop him.

He sat perched atop of a high crooked branch with no leaf growth. Just one tall perch.

He was a black crow. The most evil and dark of birds.

"Do you think," the boy began, blood dripping from the left corner of his mouth, "one who is among the faithful, would ever go so far as to summon someone like you?"

He chuckled. "I'll ask but once more, do you wish to form a contract with me?"

"I do!" the boy said adamantly, almost shouting it out. "Now stop asking these tedious questions and let me know if we have a deal?"

He had asked the boy in the beginning why he "summoned" him, but the boy had been elusive in his explanation. Nonetheless, it didn't matter. Now there would be no doubt as to the validity of _this_ contract between a human and demon, as the boy willfully demanded one be made.

The white feathers began to lift and turn black and were sucked away - the shield shattering.

They shot straight up into an abyss, their heavenly presence no more, and he flew forward without hindrance, leaping from his perch, his jetted wings flapping, giving him flight, soaring him through the air towards the boy -

And the boy screamed as their covenant was sealed. But it would be unlike any other demonic covenant, this one would be very special…

He would do what his new _master_ asked of him, then he could take what was promised. The boy's soul.

_Happy Birthday, Ciel Phantomhive._

**To be continued...**


	34. Sebastian Awakes

_**CHAPTER 34 - "SEBASTIAN AWAKES"**_

"We must be cautious and prepare," William T. Spears, Head of Reaper Affairs, said. "If indeed Decco is testing the waters for vulnerabilities and weaknesses within our group, it is safe to conclude that he will be sending even more minions, and there is no telling just how many demons he has under his hold, or how strong some of them will be."

The others agreed on this point, and they each expressed their own concerns on it. It appeared, and in the short amount of time that had been together, that Mathu Kelvin had become a welcome ally in their midst, once a cold-blooded enemy. But his declaration of when Sebastian awoke and when once he finished he had to tell him and give him was accomplished - would he truly leave them to fend for themselves against a powerful foe that in all likelihood without him they may very much would not stand a chance against?

But what demon would be next?

"Correct," Mathu Kelvin said. "Decco will very likely continue to send stronger demons against us. Why fight if you can have others do the work for you?"

"That's the coward's way of thinking," Ciel said strongly.

"No, Ciel Phantomhive," William said, "that is the way of the world. A true leader exploits his enemies weaknesses and then strikes. It is assuredly a very smart way of thinking and to victory."

Ciel grumbled, knowing the Reaper was right.

"Only to the point of allowing your warriors do all the fighting and then come in to stand over the corpses," Lukas corrected William. "If this is done, then he is not a leader but an exploiter of _good_, honorable men."

Ciel looked at Lukas with an eye of respect, and then looked at William and found him nodded softly.

"You are correct, Lukas Phantomhive. Your _Alexander the Great _was a great leader…at first, but then exploited his _good_, honorable men - after they had fought with him for years, conquering surrounding lands - when they refused to obey orders of a questionable manner and wanted to return to their families because they were tired of constant combat. As punishment, Alexander had them walk through a desert for weeks, where days by boat would have been faster; he killed one-quarter of his men this way, falling dead from heat exhaustion and starvation. There have been many other cases of men of a similar nature in human history turning sinister for their own selfish means, as well."

Lukas put up a hand, not needing a lecture. "No, all of them were just protecting their own best interests, protecting their way of life. Some fall by the wayside, but others are selfless - and then are betrayed by men _with_ that sinister intent of mind."

"Again, you are correct, Lukas Phantomhive," William said. "You know your history well."

"When I was under the influence of Bryon Kelvin, I was educated well. My teacher, whom I _believe_…was honorable, the man who taught me much of history, and the way of the world, was not the same man who trained me to kill and be an assassin. I know this _somehow…_I still don't remember who he was, but I consider him like a mentor, in a way. And one day, I will to thank him for all of what he taught me." He turned to Sebastian. "Much like Sebastian, in his own way, has helped my brother grown and learn…"

"Sebastian is my butler, nothing more," Ciel said straightly. "Do not make him out to be anything more."

"Oh, I suspect him to be much more than you are willing to admit, brother. Much more."

Ciel frowned, almost to the point of a scowl. And Lukas produced a thin smile of confidence.

Knox spoke up, "But this is a good thing, right?" Everyone looked at him. "The more demons Decco sends against us, the greater the chance it will give Sebastian time to awaken."

"Knox is correct," Salem chimed in. "The more minions Decco throws at us, helps us. Although, I am sad to say…the once _happy_ Sebastian a felt a moment ago, has evolved, or rather closed himself off to his emotions, into his present form."

Mathu Kelvin glanced at Sebastian. "Can you sense what happen to his wife and kids?"

He started to go to him, but Renfrew Phantomhive stood in his way and forced him back with a little telepathic push. "Don't touch him! Let _his_ life cycle finish, so he can return to us intact."

Mathu Kelvin pointed an accusatory finger at him. At this moment, he was human-like once more, non-electrified. "If it wasn't for you, Sebastian would be here - and we'd probably would not be in this situation at all. All of _us_ already know the secret you tried to keep from _him_, about Belial, and the knowledge housed inside Lukas's mind, even how to free him. So, at this point, his _dreaming _is pointless!"

"Not so." Salem mused with a hand cupped around his chin. "Who knows what secrets Sebastian may have to tell us from his past - special abilities that may be able to help us now. Does anyone know how old he is?" The question was put to all, but everyone eventually looked to Renfrew.

Renfrew's eyes widened defensively. "Me? How would I know? I only rendered him unconscious and began his life cycle. If anyone would know, it would be Lukas."

Lukas looked shocked. "How would I know?" he said, as everyone now looked to him.

"He has been entering your mind on an almost nightly basis for weeks attempting to recollect forgotten memories of your dark past," Renfrew explained. "Your consciousnesses must have intersected at one point. In lament's terms, your mind's rubbed."

"That's disgusting!" Ciel protested.

"If they had," Lukas said, ignoring Ciel's remark, "I certainly _would have_ remembered." He took a step back away from Renfrew. "And you are _not_ going to put _me_ to sleep in hopes I _can_ remember."

All of sudden, Ciel raised an arm and slapped Lukas hard across the face. Lukas put a hand to his left cheek, his face cringing in pain. "_Owwww_! What the hell did you do that for, Ciel?" he demanded.

"It is common knowledge that when certain mechanical objects do not function as designed, a simple hit to them, jostles the inner workings, to then make then function properly, albeit temporarily," Ciel explained simply. "I sometimes do so with the gramophone, and it always works."

"_I AM NOT AN OBJECT!_" Lukas shouted loudly. "I am a human being - _wait_!" He closed his eyes. "I see…a city on fire."

"Sebastian is a demon. _Hell_, perhaps?" Ciel offered.

Lukas shook his head, he kept his eyes closed. "This is a city of stone filled with…" He tiled his head slightly, "…snow? No, ash! I don't know whose eyes I'm looking through, but the vision I'm seeing is a place saturated in _white_, and erupting fire, and loud explosions. A volcano is erupting! It's spewing ash everywhere, showering down upon screaming and panicked citizens in tunics. There are corpses everywhere, suffocating from its toxic effects - with such intense heat, it's scorching flesh instantly!"

"How many volcanoes have erupted in the last, say, two thousand years?" Mathu asked the Reapers.

As Salem was the oldest, the Reapers looked to him. "Quite a few," Salem answered. "But I do know of two cataclysmic volcanic eruptions that caused destructive consequences we are still learning more about even today. Mount Vesuvius that buried the Roman cities of Pompeii and Herculaneum, among other cities in that area in 79 AD, and an even greater volcano eruption much earlier in the middle-half of the 2nd millennium BC, some four-thousand years ago, completely obliterating the civilization living on an island in the Mediterranean Sea. This island is known as Thera, once home to a people known as the _Minoan's_."

Ciel eyed him. "Atlantis?" he said suspiciously. "As in the volcanic eruption that destroyed the island in a single day and night according to the Greek Philosopher Plato's account of it?"

"Sadly no," Mathu corrected him. "Plato did write of a civilization that planned to conquer neighboring island nations, a highly advanced culture that were well beyond their means, but Thera was not Atlantis." He chuckled. "I…uh…well, the Fallen Reaper in me, kind of set them on a path of annihilation when we gave them the means to use make deadly weapons and they destroyed themselves with them."

"Only after Reapers got involved to stop your foolishness!" Salem said. "You gave them the knowledge to build vast weapons of destruction! They attacked us, and we were forced to destroy them!"

"Plato borrowed the story for his own needs in an attempt to reinforce the collective of his nation, but according to story lore, the story was passed down by Egyptian's to the Greek philosopher Solon, who then claimed the story was even older than _they_ claim. Are you saying, it is even _older_?"

Mathu Kelvin nodded. "A lot older, kid. _Ten_ _thousand_ years ago. And that was merely when Atlantis was destroyed. Even older than that. And so am I." He smiled wily-like.

"That's a tremendous time span between them; Atlantis, Thera and Pompeii," Ciel said. "Ruins of Pompeii were discovered about two hundreds years ago by accident while the king of Spain contracted out for digging to begin for a canal in the area, and it would make sense that Pompeii may be Sebastian's city of birth since it was destroyed by fire - albeit, Sebastian is a demon and lives in Hell." He snorted a smirk. "It is the also the only one of the three still remaining, and not completely annihilated. Information from Pompeii, including citizens flash frozen, buried by ash and such intense heat - the outer forms of their bodies are being excavated - as still being cataloged, as well the surrounding city."

"You are quite a historian, Ciel Phantomhive," Salem said surprised.

Ciel opened his mouth to say something, but then looked away. "Well, Sebastian educated me on its history," he said softly. "A person of my status and position is not afforded the luxury of attending a normal school, so he is also a teacher to me, educating me on a variety of subjects, including math, science, music, and histories of the world."

Lukas chuckled under his breath, this proving that Sebastian was much more than _just_ _a butler_. "And despite his schooling, your test scores need great improvement, brother."

Ciel scowled. "Yours are no better, Lukas!"

"I have never attended school, but I am so much more knowledgeable of the world than you!"

"That's because you traveled the world to murder people!"

Ciel's expression straightened as Lukas scowled at him with a hardened stare. "That was cold, brother," Lukas said. "You know that I had no choice, I was brainwashed by Bryon Kelvin to be an assassin. I was being facetious a moment ago. But you still don't know how to take a joke."

But Ciel did not apologize, folding his arms across his chest.

Mathu Kelvin put up his hands in a gesture to yield. "Hold on, this is no time for arguing," he said. "Do you remember anything else?" he asked Lukas, getting back on subject.

"No," Lukas said, averting his eyes away from Ciel, but he was still very much angry with him. He looked to Kelvin. "So how does this help us?"

"May I be of some assistance, possibly?" Abberline said, walking up to them. "And in your group discussion of whatever you may be talking about, you seem to have forgotten about us." He gestured to himself, and to the Phantomhive servants standing near the crypt. They had been standing apart from the rest of them so not to get in the way, even when the demons arrived. "Perhaps if you allow us to-"

"What could you possibly insert into the conversion that would be relevant?" Ciel demanded.

"You don't have to be rude, Ciel." Abberline frowned. "I am a detective, after all. And if you are discussing a problem, perhaps I can help you devise a possible solution or a scenario to help find one."

"It is not necessarily problematic, but we are attempting to ascertain if Sebastian may have some secret weapon within his demon arsenal to help us with our enemies," William explained.

"With your collective front, would Sebastian even be a difference maker if awake? I have overheard your conversion from nearly the beginning, we are not so far away as you think. Is this Decco all that powerful? I found it unsettling that there are forces beyond this world - demons, Reapers, men of a insidious nature…" He looked at Kelvin. "But I am a man of logic and I keep an open mind. I hope I can provide any help."

"Master - _look_!" Finny called out, waving over. "Sebastian is waking up!"

They all went and crowded around the lain butler. Sebastian's eyes began to flicker, then opened. He remained still, but looked around at all the faces. "My word, am I dreaming?" he said.

Abberline held out his hand and Sebastian took it, helping him to stand. "Inspector Abberline, why are you…standing _here_…in the Phantomhive family cemetery plot with distinguished company?" He noted the servants, with Abberline, and Reapers Ronald Knox, Grell Sutcliffe, William T. Spears, with Salem, also know as the Undertaker in town, and Renfrew Phantomhive, the ghost. But he also _felt_ someone else.

"Sebastian!" both Ciel and Lukas said out in unison.

"Master Ciel, Master Lukas - what has happened?" Both attempted to explain things, but their voices were overlapping and nothing clear could be understood. "One at a time, please. I'm confused, and frankly, rather quite shocked to see so many people _here_…together…those that should _not_ be seen amongst the others." Referring to humans seeing Reapers and ghosts… "But please, can someone start from the beginning?"

But it was Mathu Kelvin who stepped forward from behind the attending Reapers - the _someone else_ felt. Standing firm, Sebastian immediately put himself in front of Ciel and Lukas in defense and then raised a hand.

"_Wait!_" Ciel said.

But Sebastian didn't hear him and used a telekinetic thrust - an invisible displacement of air - to throw Mathu Kelvin heavily away from them. The Fallen Reaper was tossed into the air, unexpectedly, and crashed a distance away into an tall erected tombstone stone statuesque snapping it asunder. The statuesque of a woman, adorned like the goddess of Athena of ancient Greek, can crashing down and broken into several pieces, it's head rolling towards them. It was grave of one of Ciel and Lukas's great dear aunts.

"Sebastian, _stop_!" Lukas cried. "He's a friend now."

"A friend? Master Lukas, your taste in _friends_ is highly questionable," Sebastian said. "Especially after what he attempted to do to you only months back. He tried to kill you and Master Ciel."

"We know," Ciel said. "But things have changed recently."

"Indeed." Sebastian looked around, this time actually taking notice of all those in attendance. "What a motley crew, indeed."

"_Owwww,_" came a hurt voice in the distance. Sebastian had sent Mathu Kelvin flying in his human-form. His Fallen Reaper powers would heal him, but he was probably in a lot of pain at the moment. The moon shone in the sky, and Mathu Kelvin stubbed to his feet in his white suit aglow in it the moon's brilliant hue, ironically like some angelic being; he felt the back of his head. "I should really blast you for that," he said loudly, his voice carried by the silence of the place. "But out of interest for a common enemy, I'm willing to overlook the misunderstanding of it right now."

"I will, as the saying goes, need filling in of events," Sebastian said lost. "Apparently a lot has unfolded since my induced slumber…"

William took the liability, as he believed he could better articulate events in a matter that would be both unbiased and quickly said. After he was finished, Sebastian took a moment to reflect.

"It will take the sacrifice of innocent blood to bring back Belial," Mathu Kelvin said, momentarily glancing at Ciel and Lukas. Sebastian didn't like that and scowled at him. "You have a difficult choice to make, Sebastian Michaelis. You can either keep things as they are, or…"

"It will be _my_ decision to make," Sebastian said firmly.

"Don't become hung up with attachments, Sebastian. You are a demon, not a human. This is your chance to free Belial from the purgatory Decco has entrapped him within. Morning Star send me to you and told me that this to be is done." Kelvin held up the piece of the Hope Diamond. "With the Gate Keeper - Ciel Phantomhive, and the Key Master, or holder of the knowledge - Lukas Phantomhive, and the power source to open the void, your mentor, trainer, and master, can finally be released from a two-hundred year imprisonment by you rival."

Sebastian snatched the gem piece quickly from Kelvin's hand. "I will take this and _I _will decide what will be done," he said discourteously. It was obvious Sebastian still had bad feelings towards him. "You have delivered your message and the gem. Now, not to sound too rude but - get _lost_!"

Kelvin eyed him skeptically. "This is not like you, Sebastian Michaelis. You are not yourself. The last time we met you were calm and collected, and regardless of us fighting, you never spoke ill-like."

"I have recently recalled things I wish had remained in the past, they are very painful." He gave a displeasing look to Renfrew Phantomhive. "And it is true, I am not myself. The pain is close to the surface. It will take time to fade."

"We don't have that time," Salem said, inserting himself into the conversion. "Renfrew said if we awaken you before the life cycle completes itself, you would be disorientated. However, I believe this has occurred notwithstanding. We don't have time for your _feel_ sad. No matter what it is, it must be brushed aside for now, or your _masters_ will die at the hands of one of your most hated enemies."

Sebastian agreed, looking back at Lukas Phantomhive and then at Ciel Phantomhive, whose covenant seal embedded within his right eye could be seen by everyone.

He still had contract with Ciel - a special contract, in fact. What other demon would purposely chain himself to a human, become his personal slave only to obtain his soul at a later date; whereas any other demon would just take the boy's soul and devour it and then go on to another victim? He had considered this since being wit Ciel Phantomhive as his butler, but he hadn't reasoned why until now. No matter what, he still had an attachment to humanity and the covenant he had with Ciel Phantomhive was the only _legitimate_ - one that not even Morning Star could deny - way he could be here.

Was it in defiance to Morning Star stealing his son away? Perhaps. But he was also doing what a demon _did_, no matter how _else_ it may appear. He would devour Ciel Phantomhive's soul. In the meantime, the contract remained firm and he like any _law_ in civilized society, a gentleman always abided by it.

But since Kassy had died and he sent his kids away, he _had_ achieved his main objective. He was again within Morning Star's good graces, for now.

He had just awoken from a disturbing slumber filled with memories he wished he had not recalled, that he wanted to forgot, thought he had forgotten, and one of them was the death of his wife. A woman he so dearly. He felt disorientated, not himself. And remembering her death resulted in that. It would take time to recover from the shock of recalling his entire two thousand years of life _dreaming_, returning back to the present time. And he was beginning to feel very hungry, expending all that energy dreaming.

"I must know one thing before things escalate once more," Mathu Kelvin said. "What happened to your family? Your pregnant wife, your twin boys, and to your friend and manservant Bryan. It is like a book, a page turner that suddenly has been stopped and the reader told to wait for a sequel."

Sebastian snapped him a crimson glare, raising a hand, as if to toss Kelvin back again. "I may be a demon, but there _are_ certain things I do hold dear. You will _never_ speak of my family again!"

"Sebastian Michaelis," William spoke up. "Your 'history' may require telling to us if a plan of defense or attack can be formulated to fight your rival."

"Decco is _not_ my rival, he is my enemy!" Sebastian said still looking directly into Kelvin's eyes, as if to say, "_You are my enemy, too!_"

Kelvin eyed him, but he did not "flare-up" into a human lightning rod. The last thing that was needed was a fight to break out between contradictory allies.

"In the last two hundred years, he has murdered so many friends of mine, including demons, and anyone even remotely associated with me attempting to locate Belial, including a _very good _friend of mine."

Kelvin's eyes widened. "Bryan?" Sebastian glared at him again, but the look was obvious he had guessed right. Kelvin put up his hands in submission. "I'm sorry, how did he die? I mean, he was a Fallen Reaper."

William was now _very_ interested. "A Fallen Reaper?"

But Sebastian said nothing in reply. An uneasy tension between Sebastian and Kelvin was felt by all, as if they were ready to pick up where they last left off.

"Johnny Lazarus? But you're supposed to be dead!"

Abberline's voice was clearly heard through the _minute_ silence of the moment and everyone turned towards the direction it was said.

Standing in front of a marked tall square tombstone that bared the name of a Phantomhive member who died 150 years ago was a young, blonde hair boy about the age of ten. He wore all black that contrast and made stand out his angelic-colored hair.

"Who is _that_?" Ciel demanded.

"You're worse nightmare!" the boy said.

**To be continued…**


	35. Bringing Things Back To Normal

_**CHAPTER 35 - "BRINGING THINGS BACK TO NORMAL"**_

"Johnny Lazarus? But you're suppose to be dead?!" Inspector Abberline reiterated with an equal aghast of shock of his first utterance. "It was in all the newspapers - your father announced your death three years ago! He said he found your body in a ditch and blamed the 'Child Kidnapper of London'."

"It is safe to say, Inspector, that this is not the case any longer," Sebastian said obviously.

"A lie to hide the real truth." Johnny eyed Ciel. "Isn't that right, Ciel Phantomhive?"

Ciel frowned in a narrowed look of remebrance. "You were one of the other children in the amphitheatre," he admitted, "set to be sacrificed like me by the Inner Circle."

"But you demon butler saved them the privilege, isn't that right? He slaughtered the Inner Circle members and the remaining children on your order. You made a covenant with the demon, but you needed to be completely quiet about it, so you left no witnesses."

"Shut-up!"

"Does the truth hurt, Ciel Phantomhive? You ordered _my_ and dozens of other children to slaughter, all so you could escape uncontested and quieted, so later you could evoke a revenge on others associated with your parent's murder."

"I said, _shut-up_!"

Lukas's face was aghast with disbelief and shock. "Brother, tell me what he's saying isn't true?"

Ciel's face turned cold. "Things had to be done. Plans made. Sacrifices given. Sebastian devoured all but a few of their souls, but killed the rest. He said he would not be greedy. Once I was well enough, we then set upon to give rebirth to the Phantomhive name and I vowed to kill all those who did me wrong with Sebastian's help. Back then, I thought there were only a few to kill. Now, I learn there are so many more to hunt and punish."

"You're a monster!" Lukas said disheartened. "All those innocent children slaughtered on your say. Our parents must be crying. I have no sympathy for you anymore!"

"I don't need or _want_ your sympathy, Lukas. Revenge is all that I want!"

Johnny Lazarus seemed to smile at the discord he was creating.

"_Enough!_" Sebastian demanded. Ciel and Lukas looked at him like a father scolding his children. Sebastian then pointed an accusatory finger at Johnny Lazarus. "You will stop spewing discord and you will tell your _master_, that if he wants to settle our score, then he will have to come here and fight me. Otherwise, you can tell him he is a coward. And _you_ are but a hollow shell with his energy inside you boy."

"Oh, but I am so much _more_. The soul of Johnny Lazarus is gone, but his body still has its uses, and my father, Decco, is a very intelligent demon. Why stroll into an hornet's nest to be stung if you can smoke your enemy out by the rot and ruin of that of their past? I am merely telling the truth."

"The whole story is much less dramatic," Sebastian replied. "You tell the story as you think you saw it."

"I was there, or rather Johnny Lazarus was, and I have all his memories. His soul has passed on, but his brain, his body - everything still remains. Wilhelm Lazarus preserved his son's body very well. He studied the ancient Egyptian culture and learned how to mummify a person's body so it would not decay. So in state, in a secret room beneath his manor, the body of Johnny lain on an alter, perfectly preserved. Wilhelm _thought_ he could resurrect his son with a few choice words from scrolls be found in a cave, but he was wrong, so he offered himself to Decco in payment for his son to rise again. Decco repaired the slaughtered body of Johnny and gave _me _life with his own dark energy. I am a part of Decco, but I am also my own person with thoughts and feelings of my _own_ accord. And I asked to come to face you here. My mission is to disorientate your group for my father's coming, but I never expected you, Sebastian, to awaken this early."

"Always expect the unexpected," Ciel said.

"Indeed, but even some things can not be prepared for. And I am a mere child, although not a weak one."

"But you are a minion of _our_ enemy."

"The word: enemy, Ciel Phantomhive, is such a relative term. My father is merely attempting to bring order from chaos. An enemy is titled by those who can not seen the brilliance of what others are doing to _improve_ things, that interrupt their comfortable way of life. But everyone needs order. Once my father destroys you all, he will then begin a war in Hell and dethrone the ultimate King of Demons. And _I_ will stand at his side - son of the King! Hell will be orderly once more, with an army at my father's very command, and anyone who defies his will - _will be annihilated_!"

"You will do no such thing," Sebastian growled.

"Because you are one of the _comfortable ones_."

"No, the reason being Morning Star is not stupid. He only _takes_ what is necessary to survive. He is not foolish to start another war. And if Decco does this, does he not realized Hell's forces will be exceptionally weakened? What if the _Redeemer _decides to take advantage of it?"

"You mean God? God would not attack Hell just to cement his hold on the spirit realm. He is not like that."

"The _Redeemer _can be very wrathful and vengeful when _He_ wishes to be. And who else, when an opportunity is seen, would not wipe out _His_ enemy in a final push - much like what was almost happened in the great Holy War countless eons ago. God had an opportunity to do so when Morning Star was thrust down into the very fiery pits of Hell, but didn't. I wonder if _He_ wished he had finished Morning Star off then? God wasted his opportunity then, but would _He_ waste it now?"

Johnny eyed him skeptically. "Decco, my father, has thought of all this, I think? He would not gather an army if he knew those would be the consequences of his efforts. But perhaps he shall tell you himself." And Johnny raised his arms apart and high. "He has been watching this whole time. Now it is time to show you his true power. Father, your son beckon's you. Come forth and destroy your enemies with wrath and discontent! Then the war in Hell can begin!"

Everyone readied themselves for an attack. The party of Reapers, Kelvin and Sebastian looked readily in every direction for Decco's arrival or a hint of it, but after several long moments, nothing happened.

Johnny looked around confused. "I don't understand. Father!" He called out again. "Come forth and destroy your enemies with your _wrath_ and _discontent_!"

Again, no response, and nothing to indicate even Johnny's message was heard. Or maybe he had been heard, and what had been said by Sebastian caused a sudden change in Decco's plans? Perhaps Decco had _not_ thought of the retribution of his planned civil war - and now Johnny was left on his own.

Ciel laughed, his arms folded across his chest. "Your coward of a _father_ has abandoned you," he said. "Did you really think he would attend here to fight everyone present knowing the slim odds of victory? And obviously neither of you truly understand biblical lore."

"What do you mean?" Johnny said.

"_And thinketh thou this, O man that thou shalt escape the judgment of God? _Romans: Chapter 2, Verse 3.

"(And) _the sons of Aaron, took either of them his censor and put fore therein, and put incense thereon, and offered strange fire before the Lord, which He commanded them not. And there went out fire from the Lord and devoured them, and they died before the Lord._ Leviticus: Chapter 10, Verse 1 and 2.

"_O that they were wise, that they understood this, that they would consider their latter end! For their rock is not as our Rock, even our enemies themselves being judges. For their vine is of the vine of Sodom and of the fields of Gomorrah: their grapes are grapes of gall, their clusters are bitter. Their wine is the poison of dragons, and the cruel venom of asps. Is not this laid up in store with Me, and sealed up among My treasures? To Me belongeth vengeance and recompense; their foot shall slide in due time: for the day of their calamity is at hand, and the things that shall come upon them make haste. _Deuteronemy, Chapter 32, Verse 29, 31 to 35.

"I believe I have made my point clear," Ceil said straightly. "God is not as _nice_ as you believe. I also believe He _would_ attack a weakened Hell if the opportunity arose and then balance in the human world will be off-balance. There are many examples in the bible of that exhibit God's wrath on others who mock him. I believe I know of at least…a hundred more."

"Master," Sebastian said agasped. "I am truly astonished." Ciel eyed him; then Sebastian smirked. "But it should not surprise me - a person of your fortitude and in _your_ position to wish salvation."

"Believe what you wish, the Bible is merely an educational tool," Ciel said simply, turning his gaze away.

"In the Von Strauss Manor, where we spoke, Decco mentioned you were 'nothing' to him, and it would appear that this is true," William said to Johnny. "He has great intelligence, most likely stemmed from many years of experience. He knows the odds and he doesn't see victory, so he sent you as a last ploy to gather information, to see if attacking would be prudent. He knows now it would not be in his best interest."

Johnny's eyes widened with shock. "Than that would mean -"

"He has abandoned you," Ciel repeated with sinister delight.

"No, you lie! Father would never abandon me! A father would never betray or abandon his son!"

"I used to believe that, and to some parents that does not carry," Lukas said. "But I once called a man Father, wrongly. Once my usefulness was at an end, he discarded me like simple trash and tried to kill me. Decco doesn't care about you. He used you, like all hardhearted beings do. You obviously are no more use to him. So he has decided to rid himself of all cumbersome and burdensome things."

"That's not true! Why would be birth me if he only wished to discard me?"

"Sometimes that is a question that does not have an answer," Lukas said philosophically.

"So, there won't be a fight here? Decco's not coming?" Mathu Kelvin snorted annoyed. "Rather disappointing if you ask me. I was looking forward to facing this Decco, or at least, seeing two great Titans square off." He smirked at Sebastian.

Sebastian didn't smile back. "He's a coward, plain and simple. He has never confronted me without allies at his side. He's always hiding behind others."

"What about the army he has to wage a civil war in Hell?" Knox said. "He's still a threat in that regard."

"He wouldn't dare now, not that now he knows Morning Star has been preparing for it for centuries."

"Then what is left for him?"

"He'll still come, but at a time of his choosing," Sebastian said. "I know he will. When he thinks I am off guard. Like cowards always do, he'll attack me from behind. But I am prepared for that." Sebastian went to Johnny Lazarus and hauled him off the ground by his shirt with a clench fist tightly in his shirt, brining him to eye level. The boy looked at him terrified, Sebastian's eyes glowering crimson. "My dreaming has exhausted me. I am hungry and it is time to feast on some dark energy to regenerate my loss."

"No!" Ciel interceded by stepping between them and putting a hand a few inches in front of Sebastian's demonic ravenous looking face. His covenant eye glowered with an intensity. "You have a covenant with me! I order you to put him down _now_! It is my soul you desire, not this _hollow darkness _inside Johnny Lazarus!"

Sebastian looked down and growled, hissed and bar his fangs at Ciel like some ravenous wild animal filled with a carnal instinct. Indeed, Sebastian had made a covenant with Ciel because he knew he could cultivate a delicious soul filled with a delectable darkness amplified with pain, sorrow and betrayal. The dark energy inside Johnny Lazarus had none of that.

Ciel's eye suddenly flashed with an incandescent light from an intense emotional glare, and Sebastian immediately dropped Johnny and backed away several steps.

Johnny dropped hard, but then winked out obviously feeling threatened.

Sebastian held his face in his hands, dropping to his knees in front of Ciel. But through caged fingers over his eyes, he eyed Ciel with a crimson glare between two, white gloved fingers.

Ciel stood firm and gave him a hardened stare like an arrow hitting its mark. Ciel's covenant shined and glowered with such brilliance and with such power that it was like Sebastian was looking into the face of -

Something shifted within Ciel's eye - a part of the covenant moved, changed - but Ciel appeared not notice it or feel it, but Sebastian did see it and _felt_ the change. The Latin script of one phrase changed; he had designed the covenant according to his intent, to one day take Ciel Phantomhive's soul. But then why had a portion of it realigned itself elsewhere without him commanding it _now_? It was not yet time to devour Ciel Phantomhive's soul. It had not been cultivated _enough_!

"You are my butler, my _servant_," Ciel said, "and you will obey _my_ orders."

Quickly something happened that Sebastian didn't expect. All the pain he felt, all the hunger his belly craved, all the anger that filled his very being. suddenly vanished, and he found himself kneeing before Ciel Phantomhive, his human master. Whatever the reason for the change in the original Latin script of the covenant inside Ciel Phantomhive's eye he had had designed, something inside Ciel directed _at_ Sebastian willed the change, and how it happened, and why it happened, confused Sebastian. But it gave him the peace he sought after his disturbing dreamt memories. It was a change that did not affect the core of the covenant, but the change did affect _him_. And he felt an overwhelming calmness and resolve inside him now.

His focus had returned.

He breathed out a sense of relief. Something about their bond and the covenant in Ciel's eye had _rejuvenated _him instantly and it took away all the sadness, the hardship, the anger, and the hatred of the life he had lead in his past, dissipating it like a puff of smoke.

He couldn't explain it other than a _godly_ force had washed away his _feelings_ and gave him clarity once more. He felt calm and collected, like he had before Renfrew Phantomhive had rendered him unconscious, that caused him to enter a dream state and replay his life experiences.

"Forgive me, my lord; I honestly do not know what came over me," he said.

The glower inside Ciel's eye settled. The covenant was still visible, but did not continue to glow. Ciel leaned over and came face-to-face with Sebastian. "You will always be mine exclusively - until the end," he said closely and quietly to Sebastian for only _he_ could here. "And don't you forget that, Sebastian."

Sebastian smiled a thin grin and put his left arm across his chest and bowed shortly. "Of course, _my lord_," he said just as quietly for only Ciel'sears_. _"Until the end."

Sebastian stood up, stood courtly next to Ciel. "Everything is fine now, gentleman," he said to all. "I have returned to my old, collected, charming self."

"Indeed," Ciel said, rolling his eyes sardonically.

All of a sudden, Lukas stepped to Ciel and slapped him across the face with the same intensity Ciel had slapped him only minutes before, even if Ciel's intention was admirable to jog Lukas's memory of Sebastian's possible place of origin during what William called a "mind rub", accomplishing it.

Sebastian gasped shocked.

Ciel's eyes widened with absolute incredulity and anger. "Lukas, _how dare you_!" he said, putting a hand to his right cheek. "What in the world was that for?"

"Six months ago you delivered a punishment to me by slapping me across the face for my role in the fire that burned down the original Phantomhive mansion," Lukas explained. "As I've said in the past, I was under Bryon Kelvin's influence, but I accepted the _punishment_ with grace and dignity. I am now returning it for what you _did_ in the amphitheatre that give you purchase to escape unmolested. I consider _us_ even now."

They both looked at the other with a silent stare for a few long moments.

Ciel rubbed his cheek and then laughed. "Touché, Lukas, touché. We both acted in self-preservation of our own regard, however horrid each outcome resulted. I am sorry for what I said to you earlier. We need to stick together in our greatest time of need, arguing between us will solve nothing."

Lukas smiled. "Agreed. And I too apologize." And they shook hands.

"So, now that that is settled," Mathu Kelvin began, "what do we do about Belial, Sebastian's master?"

"_I am _Sebastian's master," Ciel spoke up. "And a butler can only have - "

"_Two masters_," Lukas interrupted, smiling.

"Indeed," Sebastian agreed, albeit only because they were brothers. But he only had a contract/covenant with Ciel. "Master Belial will have wait for now, but I will keep this gem for safekeeping." He held up the piece of the Hope Diamond he snatched from Mathu Kelvin's grasp that would supposedly help open the door to the void and free Belial, erstwhile sacrificing both Ciel and Lukas. He was not ready to do that yet.

Renfrew Phantomhive sighed and frowned, and Knox noticed. "What's the matter, little guy?" Knox asked.

All turned to him. "All ends well and happy for others, but not for me," Renfrew said sorrowfully.

"What do you mean? We've won! Haven't we?"

"He means, Mr. Knox, that despite the situation ending peacefully, for now, his soul still can not rest," William said. "Even with Decco's power that restored others…his soul has been blacklisted. He did an unthinkable thing, and in the eyes of _God_, it is unforgivable due to its selfish nature."

"What did you do?" Knox asked.

"I…killed myself, I shot myself. But it was by accident, the gun went off when the trigger was depressed." Renfrew sighed. "And I have been paying for it for a very long time, remaining a wandering ghost."

"Why in _Reaperdum_ did you do that?"

"Because my father was a…" he said quickly but stopped short of cursing in front of company. "He used to hit me on an almost daily bases. He was a heavy drinker. So I found his gun and pretended I was going to shoot myself if he didn't treat me better. But it went off, and I…" It had masked it before, but now Renfrew showed a massive hole in his upper chest. He made it clearly visible despite his own translucent blue ghostly hue. Then masked it again. "Then I thought when I discovered a way to repent for my sin by making a deal with Wilhelm Lazarus to render Sebastian unconscious so he could take his revenge on him for murdering Johnny in the amphitheatre three years ago, God might recede the blacklist. But Wilhelm Lazarus with Decco betrayed me."

"And you thought that if you righted a wrong, that _God_ would reward you and you would earn repentance?"

Renfrew nodded. "Johnny Lazarus was kidnapped by the Child Kidnapper of London's henchmen and then given to the members of the Inner Circle for sacrifice to summon a demon. _That_ demon slaughtered those evil men, but then also murdered all those innocent children including an _alive_ Johnny Lazarus. Notwithstanding, I was not privy to these events, I was only told about them by Wilhelm Lazarus."

"But _I_ was, in a way," Mathu Kelvin said. "Even I was sickened by the brutal massacre of all those children as I _witnessed_ it, pretending to be dead - at the time possessing the body of my host who _had_ attended the ceremonial sacrifice - with Ciel Phantomhive laying on an alter about to be the next in line. I didn't see much, but I with others, felt sudden gusts of chilled winds and heard horrid adolescent screams within the darkened amphitheatre." He looked away, ashamed of his cowardice at the time. "They haunt me still."

"Self-preservation," Ciel said. "It all falls back to self-preservation."

"Yes, but in _Renfrew Phantomhive's_ case, there is nothing that can be done," William said. "We Reapers are forbidden to intercede in _God's_ judgment. Only _God_ can lift the blacklisting."

Lukas stepped forward confused. "What do you mean by blacklist? Do you mean, that some souls can never rest if they conduct themselves in an unjustifiable manner or do something within their lifetime that goes against the very nature of God's will? That is unfair in Renny's case."

William was about to say something, but Knox said instead, "In special circumstances, Reapers can grant what are called 'Renewals' - which means, to give a person back his life that has been taken away incorrectly by a Reaper or another spiritual being."

"But this is not the case," William corrected. "And permission for such must come from a higher power. Decco restored Thann Von Strauss's life and did the same to his younger brother Spencer when we were all together at the Von Strauss manor, but he is a demon and we can not control his actions."

"Wait," Ciel said. "How do Thann and Spencer Von Strauss come into play with events?"

"Renfrew Phantomhive can stay with us in the mansion," Sebastian said, ignoring the Von Strauss issue at the moment. "He is welcome to stay with us for as long as he wishes."

Ciel opened his mouth to protest, but then a thin smile directed at him from Sebastian changed his mind. It was a quiet show, as if a father was _telling_ his son that there will be no questioning of his rule. "Yes, he can stay," he conceded, averting his eyes, "especially after all the help he has provided over the previous day."

"Well then," Sebastian said in his usual good-humored self, and clapped his hands, "we should all return to the mansion. It is late and young masters should be in bed."

"Don't patronize us, Sebastian," Ciel said, but then his stomach grumbled. As if on cue, Lukas's followed.

Sebastian gasped. "My word, when was the last time you two have eaten?"

"We've been kind of busy, Sebastian, and food has been the last thing on our minds," Lukas said.

"Nonsense," Sebastian said with concern. "You can't skip meals or you'll never grow. Once we return to the mansion, I shall prepare a feast for everyone and you shall _all_ eat like kings."

* * *

The Dining Hall table was set and the food quickly cooked with Sebastian's own blend of preparation. Once the food began to arrive, it didn't take long before etiquette fell by the wayside to hunger. And Sebastian chuckled softly to himself as both Ciel and Lukas, minus proper edict in front of the staff, ate like "little demons" with the servants and Abberline. Sometimes, boys will be boys - especially hungry boys.

All ate except Tanaka, who had decided to turn in for the evening feeling exceptionally tired, eating nothing. Later on, knowing sometimes, the old man liked to wake up in the middle of the night and read because it was often the only time he had any time to himself. Sebastian decided that would be the perfect time to bring him something proper. Even the elderly needed to keep up their strength, and in Tanaka's case, his continued lack of vitality lately, food was very important.

He left the diners to their own devises and joined others in an adjacent hallway, closing the door behind him. Here, all four Reapers awaited him, including Mathu Kelvin and Renfrew Phantomhive, who didn't need or no longer required food nourishment. And here he had a message for them all: "Your assistance is no longer required, gentleman," he said, to all but Renfrew Phantomhive whom he had welcomed the boy ghost to reside in the mansion for as long as he wished. "I can safeguard the young masters now."

"But what about Decco?" Knox said.

"And there is still the issue about Belial," Kelvin said with importance. "Morning Star will _not_ be pleased that you chose your master's well-being over one of his major generals _and_ your mentor."

"As I have told you, I will make the decision about my master as I now hold all the pieces to his release," Sebastian said firmly to Kelvin. "Another way will be found, and I will find it. The covenant I have with my master must stand. Please tell Morning Star this with my utmost heartfelt apologizes. But also tell him, I have never stopped searching for Master Belial, even in the last 200 years. He was my mentor and trainer, and through my travels, I have gone to many of the places visited when I first became to train, including the mysterious cliff dwellings of the _Anaasází_. I often returned here to be alone and reflect, and after the death of Kassy, this is where I spent most of my time, thinking and growing stronger. After a time, however, I returned to reasserting my demon side and began to feed. But after a while, the tediousness bored me once more."

"I believe I understand," William said. "And you came through the gateway that the Inner Circle opened and made a covenant with Ciel Phantomhive to once again root yourself within humanity."

"Another demon came through the gateway with me. Decco thought I hadn't noticed him, but his dark energy is undeniable to me, but he quickly vanished having no wish to stay. I ignored him for a time and focused on Ciel Phantomhive, becoming his butler, for which I knew nothing about. Ciel often chastised me because I nothing about how to _be_ a proper butler, but he taught me and I picked things up quickly and now I am a master of my trade."

"But there's more, isn't there, Sebastian? Or shall I call you Damascus?" Kelvin said.

"Sebastian is the name my new master has given me, so continue to use it. And what do you mean?"

"I don't believe your making a covenant with Ciel Phantomhive is mere coincidence. You and the Phantomhive's have interacted before; I witnessed such in your dreams. Miles and Mary, and their son, Tristan Phantomhive, were very good friends of the Smythe family, for which you married into. And so, I pose the question. Were you merely drawn by your wish to root yourself with humanity once more as you have in the past, knowing your liking of them, and you having been human once before, or was there some other reason that gave your purchase towards an _encounter_ with the seemingly last surviving Phantomhive member at the time?"

Sebastian chuckled to himself. "You are reaching for something not there, Mathu Kelvin."

"Really? Ciel Phantomhive doesn't believe in coincidences and neither do I."

"What are you saying?" Knox jumped in. "That Sebastian becoming the Phantomhive butler was earmarked to happen?"

"A demon _does_ have the power to travel through time barriers like Reapers," Kelvin revealed. "They can not fort what has already happened, but they can see the future and possibly alter it."

"Are you saying he arranged or chose this to happen - to chain himself to the human world with Ciel Phantomhive?" Knox said. "Why would any anyone - even a demon - do such a thing?"

Mathu Kelvin smiled with some assurance. "Even if he doesn't want to admit such, he was very much draw to Ciel because of Sebastian's relationship with the Phantomhive's in the past, and I believe he feels a kinship with them. So, _I believe_, he is here under the pretense of the covenant, to protect Ciel Phantomhive, whom he saw was being threatened and picked to die. Now also Lukas Phantomhive. He took it upon himself to fall into the role of 'savior.' Psychologically speaking, he also, undeniably, inserted yourself into a fatherly role, something all parents wish to rekindle when they lose a part of their life that was cut short due to a threat from another. Perhaps Decco? We were never told us what happened to your son's. It's obvious that your wife died. She was human, after all. Please let me know if I have misinterpreted things?"

Sebastian chuckled once more. "You have indeed, Mr. Kelvin. You are still _very much _reaching. You are attempting to insert an idea into place that does only to serve a false assumption. You are mistaken, but believe what you will. It makes no difference to me or the truth - coincidence, nothing more."

"I am not prone to speculation, but I believe the facts are coming to light," William said. "All the pieces are still not here yet, but hear me out. All this is surmised based on the fact with logical deductive reasoning."

William began. "As it was told to me by another who witnessed it, a Reaper, this mysterious _demon_ that helped Lukas in years past, two years prior in fact, when he was dying of cold on a winter's night on the streets of London, after a mission - _this demon _was indeed, in some fashion, familiar with Lukas Phantomhive in the past, and also connected with Renfrew Phantomhive in some manner, as well."

Renfrew nodded, but allowed William to continue without saying a word.

"At this time, and after Lukas Phantomhive's sudden and miraculous recovery, he was given knowledge of Belial, but then this knowledge was subsequentially erased from Lukas's memory along with his encounter with this demon and Renfrew Phantomhive. It was done so to protect Lukas from an attack by Decco. If the demon ever found out, the boy would be in danger.

"Renfrew secretly stays with Lukas to protect him and this information from being exposed under the guise of a vow from a previous encounter with Lukas Phantomhive, who did indeed help 'rescue' Renfrew from a captor who had 'ensnared', or had believed so, with an albeit weak knowledge of spiritual spells. An amateur, just starting out practicing with dark magic, but this is now what Renfrew told Lukas at the time.

"I also surmise that Renfrew, on that night Lukas was saved, was still with his 'captor' and brought forth unknown events to draw Lukas to him, so they could eventually meet legitimately. Although, once Renfrew's 'captor' was dead, for which Lukas killed him with his skills as an assassin and killer at the time, Renfrew erased Lukas's memory of him and then inserted himself as a shadowy protector from afar."

Renfrew nodded again and smiled, as if glad that the truth was finally coming out.

"Thus when Sebastian attempted to learn this information within Lukas's mind aiding the boy in the recovery of old forgotten memories, Renfrew then put Sebastian to sleep as punishment - to dream of _his_ own past, as a method to learn some humility and respect in not to pry into the lives of others. But unbeknownst to all, Sebastian's true history began to unfold intricately, for which we still do not know and may never know the full story. There is still much, but I believe the facts are accurate as far as Renfrew Phantomhive is considered.

"I believe there is merit to Mathu Kelvin's theory, albeit filled with conjecture and mere speculation. And Renfrew Phantomhive is only one piece of the overall puzzle. A second piece, may also fit. Could that _demon_ that night have been you, Sebastian Michaelis? It fits the timeframe of when you emerged from the gateway. While Ciel slept, you could have easily slipped away…"

Sebastian folded his arms across his chest, not out of annoyance but out of intrigue. "My word, you Reapers do have a vivid imagination. However, I had no knowledge of Lukas Phantomhive at the time, so your theory crumbles. You all seem to think that I set events into motion, allocating pieces like on a chest board, moving them precisely where I wanted them to go to come to this point? That is absurd. No one is that clever and can think that far ahead - not even I."

Renfrew shook his head. "_That_ demon that helped Lukas looked nothing like Sebastian anyway. He was also a lot younger looking almost like a teenager and he wore spectacles and a black suit."

"Spectacles and a black suit?" William questioned.

"Yes, much like you and Knox," Renfrew confirmed. "And if I recall, when he was leaving, another demon appeared next to him. They looked uncannily alike."

"Are you sure they were demons?" William inquired. "And not Reapers?"

"You have already stated a number of times that Reapers can not get involved in human affairs. Dying of cold is a human affair. So they could not have been Reapers if Lukas Phantomhive was saved by one of them."

"Indeed." William nodded. He adjusted his speculates. "This is troublesome. Demons dressing like Reapers is problematic. I must open a file on this when we return to _Reapderdum_."

"I wonder what ever happened to the Thann and Spencer Von Strauss?" Knox said, changing the subject. "I sent them into the Phantomhive mansion to be safe when I brought them here when we escaped from Decco, but they're no where to be found now. I wonder if they left?"

"Leave them to their own devices, Reaper Knox," William said in his orderly manner. "Our policy is clear. They were restored back to life by Decco. Their lives are theirs to do as they wish now."

Knox agreed. "But that still doesn't make me any less curious," he said.

"We have an equally important dilemma here _now_," Grell Sutcliffe said, inserting himself into the conversion. The others all looked at him. "What do we do with everyone who have witnessed events here?"

William nodded. "Agreed. Humans can not be privy to such things," he said.

"The servants will be no bother, I will erase their memories with a touch as they sleep - although I will not erase my master's minds," Sebastian said, glancing down at Renfrew Phantomhive. "They know how to keep a secret."

Renfrew smiled.

"The real problem will be the detective," Salem put in.

"I will take care of him as well," Sebastian replied.

"Don't kill him, all right?" Knox pleaded. "We don't need any unnecessary bloodshed."

Sebastian smirked. "I assure you, Mr. Knox, that I would not harm someone Master Ciel likes."

**_To be continued…_**


	36. Talking Truth

_**CHAPTER 36 - "TALKING TRUTH"**_

The next morning, First-Inspector Frederick Abberline found himself wakening on the couch of his London town home, not knowing how he got there. But around him were scattered work folders.

He sat up groggy as Marie, his fiancée, walked into the living room with a tray with two cups of tea. She put one cup down in front of him on a table and he slowly reached over and took it, sipping in its lovely aroma. The taste went down his throat with delight. "New tea, Marie?"

"It's honeysuckle," she said. "On my way home this morning from my sister's, I had the urge to pick up some tea, and knowing how hard you were working at the office last night, I thought it would be a welcome change. I was told it relieves stress and induces a calm in the mind."

He nodded, he did feel calm. In fact, he suddenly felt he had a weight lifted off his shoulders as he sipped the tea.

"So, what did Lord Randall have you two working on last night?" she asked. "He's always working you too hard. Didn't he tell you to take a few days off for the Christmas holidays?"

He nodded, but Sir Randall was never that _nice_. There had to have been an alterative motive behind it, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember or even guess what it may havebeen. In fact, he couldn't recall much of anything for the last couple of days, but something nagged at the back at his mind. He felt he had forgotten something very important, but as he drank some more tea, calmness of his mind resumed and he let it slide.

"Randall is a good person, Marie - he sometimes has a lot on his mind," he said.

"Apparently you do, as well." Marie looked at the debris of file folders scattered throughout the room. "What is all this?" She picked up a file folder and read a subject line from the first page: "_Cat Burglar Strikes At Fish Market._" She picked up a second folder and read its subject line: "_Small Town Crook Streaks Through Meat Market._" She read the subject line from an third folder: "_Booby-Trap Snares Woman When Overseeing Mice Snaps In Her Home When She Bent Low._"

She chuckled, but her voice hinted with annoyance when she spoke again. "These are small time cases. This is what was so important that Sir Randall had to keep you in the office late last night?"

He sipped his cup again, but nodded absent-mindedly. "I guess so?"

* * *

_The same morning…_

The servants of the Phantomhive household awoke forgetful of transpiring events of yesterday and days prior regarding anything associated with ghosts and demons and began their duties as usual.

Sebastian had gone to Finny, Mey-Rin, Bardroy and Tanaka, each successively, and removed those memories over the night. Sebastian also found a little surprise in Tanaka's mind - that the elder butler knew about Sebastian's true self as a demon, but removed that as well. How he knew was unknown, but it felt more like a suspicion than actual proof.

He allowed Ciel and Lukas to sleep in a little longer than normal due to the late night that had and it wasn't until noon when he awoke his masters. But he did _not_ alter their memories of the events in question.

* * *

_That afternoon..._

In the Dining Room, Sebastian laid out bunch of eggs benedict, scones, orange juice and tea. Ciel sat at his usual position at the head of the table, while Lukas sat on the side next to him. Only they and Sebastian were in the room, so they could speak freely.

"Do you think we need to worry about the Illuminati, brother?" Lukas said, taking a bite of a scone.

Ciel sipped his tea. "I wouldn't be concerned with them, Lukas," he said. "They would not dare take action against one of their staunch members."

Lukas gasped, crumbs spitting from his mouth. "Staunch members? _You_ -_Us_?" He gave a look of surprise to Sebastian and the butler nodded. "Why wasn't I told?"

"Simply, the conversion never came up. Vincent Phantomhive, our father, was a very prominent member. And I mean was, past-tense, until he suspected a hidden agenda to usurp England's governing body. Apparently the Inner Circle and the Illuminati were both working towards the same goal, but as two separate entities. And while the Inner Circle is finished, the Illuminati continues to work from behind a curtain. But now that a certain _someone_ has informed them if they continue, a certain _someone else _will cut off major funding to all their projects." Ciel gave a one-eye glance to Sebastian. The butler nodded.

"You? Do you suspect they may have had a hand in our parent's murder?"

"I don't know, but I don't think they would be that stupid. Bryon Kelvin is still our prime target."

"And yet we only have supposition and conjecture. Thus, our hunt for answers continue."

"Yes, along with another mystery. Namely, who broke the handle to the drawer of my desk in the Study and ruffled the papers on top."

"Could it have been Thann or Spencer Von Strauss? Remember, Reaper Ronald Knox did say he told them to enter the mansion to stay safe."

"Plausible, but what would they be looking for, and why? And where are they now? Not even the Reapers can find them. They appear to have just _vanished_."

"Hiding from the Illuminati, perhaps? From what we were told from Knox, Thann and Spencer's father was high within the Illuminati before he died. News travels fast in England sometimes. The newspapers have already picked up the story, but they make no mention of the Illuminati." Lukas had up a copy of the London Gazette on the table next to him.

"Of course," Ciel said shrugging.

"Apparently Erich Von Strauss was attacked by a vicious, wild animal. They later found Wilhelm Lazarus's 'pet' white tiger dead elsewhere spattered with his blood. Scotland Yard is investigating further. But preliminary reports indicate the teeth marks on Erich Von Strauss were human, not animal, and chemical analysis of the tiger indicates that the tiger died from some unknown internal cause. My guess is, and this will probably never be known, that the demon Decco killed the animal for personal reasons."

Ciel nodded. "They say animal instincts are very acute. The tiger probably attacked Decco after he _stole_ his master. I am sure we will learn of Wilhelm Lazarus's death very soon in the media as well, along with two missing person cases regarding two other Illuminati members, that constitute the main body of their leadership in England's branch: Francis Thibeau and Orion Anderson McDermott. With Erich Von Strauss, they made up the leadership triad of the Illuminati branch. New elections will be held soon. And I will make sure there are people put into power that I can trust implicitly."

"You should have told me father was a member," Lukas said.

"Again, there was no need. But you will be happy to know that I have rethought my decision to celebrate Christmas this year. Sebastian is making the preparations for a party to be held here on Christmas Eve. The decorations will remain up. I know it is short notice, but I'm sure people will attend."

Lukas's face burst with glee. "That's wonderful! What made you change your mind?"

Ciel took another sip of tea after eating some eggs benefit. "Family," he said. "I have spent the last two years searching for those responsible for our parents deaths while at the same time keeping within a shell of isolation, essentially 'hiding' from the world so I am not hurt again. I don't like feeling hurt and the world has hurt me greatly. For the last few months since your return, I ignored the fact that an important part of living is enjoying family and you are the only one I have left. So…"

Lukas chuckled. "You're getting soft, brother. That wouldn't have crossed your mind months prior."

Ciel cleared his throat, somewhat embarrassed. "Notwithstanding, I have something for you. Call it an early Christmas gift."

Sebastian stepped forward and presented Lukas with a small, wrapped gift box. "But you said you hadn't gotten me anything yet." Lukas took it and looked at for a moment, then unwrapped it. Inside was a velvet felt ring box; inside: was a blue gem, gold encased ring. Lukas frowned. "Isn't this the same blue gem, the piece of the Hope Diamond, Mathu Kelvin gave to Sebastian that's even more cursed than your own ring?"

Ciel shrugged. "Nonetheless, we want you to have it."

Lukas rolled his eyes in disbelief. "Symbolic of us being cursed, brother?" He said, slipping it on the pinki of his left hand as it was smaller than Ciel's, who wore _his_ ring on his left thumb because it once belonged to Vincent Phantomhive and Ciel's fingers were smaller at his present age than his father's were fully grown. "It's nice to know you even thought of getting me a gift."

"We're family."

"Indeed. By the by, I would like to get ear piercings like you. They look very fashionable."

Ciel's brow rose. "I suppose that _can be_ arranged, but I prefer to stay original."

Lukas laughed. "Trust me, brother. There is no one else in the world like _you_."

"Quite. One 'twin' brother is enough."

Lukas laughed again, but then he turned serious. "There is one thing that I am still curious about."

"And that is?"

"That demon who rescued me according to what Renny said. Why would a demon help me? And why would he pass knowledge of Belial, Sebastian's mentor, to _me_ for safekeeping? It makes no sense. I still don't know _what _this knowledge is. And if the Illuminati and the Inner Circle had an inkling of what it was and attempted to use _us_ as a pillars to build a gateway to free Belial-" He shook his head. "I'm so confused."

"I have pleasing news," Sebastian said smiling, standing between the boys. "My mentor's situation has been dealt with. It is no longer an issue. I received word last night that my mentor, if you can believe it, only pretended to fall pray to Decco's imprisonment. The truth was, he merely took an extended vacation."

"A vacation?" Lukas barked.

"He is a very busy man, and in training so many demons over the years, he became tired, and for lack of a better word, 'burned-out'. Morning Star was a upset, but all has been forgiven now that my mentor is back among the hierarchy. And in this, Decco is truly defeated. It is said, to relax fully, you must leave all your troubles and cares behind you without contact."

"That is good to hear, and very true," Ciel said. "What of Renfrew? Where is he right now?"

"I have assigned him a task to accomplish. He is presently tracking someone down by means of only his allocation. My recently dream-state has stirred certain issues to arise and I wish to quell them."

"Mathu Kelvin, before he left us - and I am surprised you allowed him to go peacefully, Sebastian - mentioned your wife and children," Lukas said. "If I may ask, what _did_ happen to them? And this Bryan?"

Sebastian sighed melancholy for a moment, reflective. "My wife died given birth to our third child, whom I suspected actually poisoned her with dark energy. He was very powerful and evil. Bryan, our manservant, who was possessed by a Fallen Reaper, and I, attempted to end the child's life by burying it. But Morning Star stole him away, saying he needed powerful demons. I never knew what happened to the child."

Ciel put up a hand to halt the story momentarily. "Did you say Bryan was possessed by a Fallen Reaper? You mean, like Mathu Kelvin?"

"In a similar fashion, but unlike Mathu Kelvin, Bryan was, I suppose, he would be considered a 'good-guy', and he explained to me the reason for his _falling_ from grace. It was not from an evil act like the Fallen Reaper that now possesses Mathu Kelvin, but it was for speaking against the Reaper High Council, claiming corruption and misappropriation of power against others. For this, he was sentenced to be one of the _Fallen_." Sebastian then went on to explain about Bryan's childhood and how the Fallen Reaper came to possess Bryan willfully. "But then, later, Decco somehow learned of Bryan and my children and attempted to kill them. From what I am told, Bryan sacrificed himself for my children in a harsh and fatal battle."

"I am sorry for your loss," Ciel said.

"Thank you. But my children escaped and Braydon and Brandon are safe now. This I am assured of. And they are thriving in their new environment, so to speak. Those demons you saw _that night_, Master Lukas, were in fact, my sons. Through information from another party, your identity was learned about and plans were imposed to help you to eventually find your way here. But things had to remain secret. Therefore, with Renfrew Phantomhive's help, for which he was indeed protecting you after you rescued him from his captor, ideas were implanted inside your mind _urging you_, ever so slightly, to break free of whoever was masterminding your brainwashing at the time. But it had to be you who finally made the final push."

"You kept the identity of my brother a secret for two years?" Ciel said angrily, he slammed a fist to the table.

"It was necessary, my lord, to protect both he and you from dangerous forces, and at the time, I had my hands full. Only until recently was I able to allocate my resources to become a duel-butler."

"So, in a way, you masterminded events to bring us back together," Lukas said, "but only at a time whereas it would be safe enough for it to be done so?"

"Correct. And even when this was done, I underestimated the extent of your brainwashing. Whatever the method Bryon Kelvin employed to brainwash you, he did a very good job. And there are still avenues of your mind that I can not access, barriers put up - much like Renfrew did with his guardianship."

"Wait," Ciel said confused, "if you and Renfrew knew each other before-hand, why did he do what he did? He put you to sleep as punishment for entering Lukas's mind in an attempt to learn a secret that would free your mentor from a purgatory your rival thought he put Belial in, which turns out was false information."

"Not false information, my lord. As I have explained, no one knew Belial took a vacation, playing to the assumption he was imprisoned. He tricked even Decco. As for Renfrew, he knew my sons as 'demons' _that night_, but he never met me or knew _their_ names, and Renfrew was told not to interfere in Lukas's development; to allow things to play out naturally. Everything was designed under the guise of pretext."

Ciel snorted amused. "Just like a demon. Does Renfrew know you used him?"

"He knows of the events that unfolded. I informed him before allocating the task he is undertaking now."

"But how did Renfrew know of Belial?" Ciel said. "Ah, yes. Of course. When your sons implanted the 'information' of your mentor into Lukas for safekeeping, that _you_ told _them_ - whatever that information is - they told Renfrew about it and asked he protect Lukas and its safekeeping. My guess is this information is not much of anything…merely a touch, or an 'urge' for freedom? The _key_ to salvation."

"Mathu Kelvin said I was the _Key Master _- key, meaning information - and Ciel the _Gate Keeper _because of the brand on his body," Lukas said. "But I dread to ask this question: Did you manipulate events to make my brother the _Gate Keeper_? My mind was filled with 'information', but the brand on my brother's body is permanent and it hurt him very much; he was humiliated and almost killed."

Both boys looked at him with serious expressions.

Sebastian shook his head. "No. Even in this world there are evil men who think evil thoughts and do evil deeds. The Inner Circle did this of their _own_ violation in an attempt to summon a demon to them. You were, however, my beacon to come through the gateway, Master Ciel. And even though you, Master Ciel, do not believe in coincidences, there were even some events that unfolded that I had no connection with. However, regardless, those events did manage to coincide and aid with our association now."

"That is good to hear," Ciel said, still with a serious look on his face. "For if I learned this mark was as a result of you, I would negate our covenant right now."

"Parish the thought, my lord. I would never harm the family member of a Phantomhive, whom I once held a close and personal bond to in my past."

"Bond? You knew some of our ancestors?"

"Indeed. In fact, I was privy to how the Phantomhive's first began. It is quite an interesting tale. Your ancestor Miles Phantomhive struck it rich in a gold mine in Peru while searching for other treasure as a teenager with treasure hunters. The first expedition he did not find this _particular _treasure but he did find a cave hoard with gold. I don't recall at the moment what that _other _treasure is, if I do, I will tell you. Nonetheless, with his gold find, he returned to England and began a family, married and had a son named Tristan. They were very good friends with the Smythe family for which I married into, my wife Kassandra. With her, I had twin boys: Braydon and Brandon, and a third son that Morning Star stole away."

Ciel thought for a moment. "I seem to recall my father mentioning an ancestor named Tristan. I believe he went on to become a teacher of Astronomy."

"That would be fitting, as he was fascinated with space and the night sky," Sebastian said. "Alas, in regard to astronomical phenomenon, every year on the Winter Solstice, because the dimension rifts are lax, my sons visit with me and we talk about the year that went by. Unfortunately, the Winter Solstice, December 21st, was yesterday. I will not be able to see my sons this year."

"But why only once a year, Sebastian?" Lukas asked.

"Because he obviously sees them in secret to hide their visitation," Ciel said. "From Decco, perhaps? The dimension rift hides their energy. The Winter Solstice, unlike the Summer Solstice, is the most energized day of the year. It is when the magnetic poles are at their zenith intensity. But Decco is no longer a threat. And Belial is back. You have nothing more to fear. Why not see them tonight? Can you call them?"

Sebastian tilted his head slightly and smiled. "I am curious, my lord. If you are this knowledgeable, why do your school test scores continue to falter?"

Ciel cleared his throat and averted his eyes discomfited. "Well…"

And Lukas laughed.

**_To be continued…_**


	37. Where It All Began

_**CHAPTER 37 - "WHERE IS ALL BEGAN"**_

That night when the servants were asleep, Sebastian with Ciel and Lukas snuck out of the mansion and returned to the cemetery family plot, but this time properly dressed for the weather and time of night. The temperature had dropped and had become seasonal for Winter. There was a chilly breeze blowing and the moon wasn't as full and was semi-covered by passing cloud cover. Mist covered the ground.

Sebastian had brought a lantern, and they traveled through the secret passageway he had made that lead from the mansion in the basement to the cemetery, and up into what was now a broken crypt dedicated to Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive. As soon they were within open space, Sebastian used his powers to rebuild it exactly to original specifications, until at last, the crypt, albeit symbolic only in nature, was fixed. He also repaired the broken statuesque of one of his masters' late great aunts he had thrown Mathu Kelvin into the other day. Until everything was as it was.

Sebastian had sent a telepathic message through communication methods of his own use to his sons. He had not received a message back, but he had told them a time and place to meet, despite one day later than normal. It was nearing the witching hour, close to the time Sebastian had designated, and they waited in the middle of the cemetery, in an atmosphere that made Lukas nervous.

"I don't like being out in the open like this," Lukas said, "it makes me feel vulnerable. Uneasy."

"Perhaps a remnant emotion of when you were Bryon Kelvin's assassin, my lord?" Sebastian suggested. "Being of that mind, you most likely preferred secrecy and coversion. I enjoy wide, open spaces, myself."

"Someone who says that is often a little claustrophobic," Lukas replied.

"When I was first training with my mentor _Master_ Belial - and it just so happen it was also the first day I encountered Decco - I became entombed in a small cavern Decco threw me in when we scuffled, and he sealed its entrance. I broke out, but I did not allow the fear of it to ruin me. There is no fear but fear itself. The mansion does not bother me, but very enclosed spaces do make me nervous."

"Attributed back to when Vesuvius was erupting and you did not wish to become entombed like your Roman brethren in Pompeii?" Ciel said. "Much like so many of them are today and still being uncovered."

"That's cruel, Ciel," Lukas said sternly.

It didn't take long for two entities to make their appearance. They were dressed in black suits, ties with octagonal spectacles. If Lukas didn't know any better, Braydon and Brandon looked like they were dressed in the standard uniform of Reapers.

"Hello, father," they both said in unison.

"Braydon, Brandon, how nice it is to see you. I did know you would get my message. I know you are quite busy these days." Sebastian stepped forward to shake both their hands. But then the twins hugged their father. They parted. "Allow me to introduce you to Lord Ciel and Lord Lukas of Phantomhive. I believe I have spoken about Ciel prior and I know you already know Lukas from previously."

Braydon and Brandon both smiled. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance," Braydon spoke.

"Indeed, father has told us so much about _you_ Ciel," Brandon said. "And _we_ have been keeping tabs on Lukas from afar. We are pleased you have finally made your way home."

"So am I," Lukas said smiling.

"And what _exactly _has your father been saying about me?" Ciel inquired.

"Nothing but _good_ things," Braydon replied with a sardonic smile. "Our father has informed us of your origins together as master and butler and about the demonic covenant you share."

"While we don't necessarily agree with how it all came about, we've accepted it," Braydon finished.

"Please, let us not begin this _discussion_ again," Sebastian chided. "It is what it is, notwithstanding, and its fortitudinous in its facets were welcome and needed."

"We agree," Brandon said, with Braydon nodding. "Without your intersection, the last of the Phantomhive line would've perished on that alter, slaughtered by the Inner Circle, and Lukas Phantomhive would've died on a cold, winter night, on a London street, forgotten."

"He is our savior." Lukas smiled. "And we thank him for it."

Ciel folded his arms across his chest, then muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.

"What did he say?" Braydon asked.

"Please ignore him," Lukas said. "He hates admitting others are right. But he feels the same way. Although, he does have the covenant in his right eye that will, eventually, bring about his end to Sebastian. I wish that wasn't so, but I do wish Sebastian could be our butler, and our friend, forever."

"Here, here. Truly words were never spoken," Ciel said agreeing, if only for the covenant to never come to fruition. "But I know Sebastian will never let me die. He doesn't want to lose my soul."

"And I don't wish to lose you, brother. We just found each other again after so many years apart."

"Let me get this straight, Sebastian," Ciel then said. "It's not difficult to make the distinction, but let me clarify. Your _demon_ sons are…_Reapers_?"

"Indeed, and there is quite an interesting story behind it," Sebastian admitted proudly. He looked to his sons as if to ask permission to reveal it. They nodded. "It all begin when -"

Sebastian felt a great power and suddenly Decco appeared, snatching Ciel with a hand and pressed the boy to himself as if to use Ciel as a hostage shield. He had not weapons with him and no minions, Decco was alone, but he still possessed great power. However, he looked exhausted and was breathed heavily.

Decco gritted his teeth angrily. "Damn you, Damascus! _Damn you_! All that I sought is now gone! Morning Star _persuaded_ my entire army to recant me, Belial has returned, and now I'm being hunted like a dog!"

"Return my master at once!" Sebastian demanded. "You're defeated. You have nothing left."

"I can still kill what you hold most dear." Decco took a tight grip of Ciel's throat and began to squeeze. Ciel struggled to no avail. "This will be my last _hooray_!"

Almost momentarily, Renfrew Phantomhive appeared in the blink of an eye, and gasped when he saw the scene unfolding.

"You little traitor!" Decco cursed Renfrew. "You were suppose to be on my side!"

"Things that go around, come around," Renfrew said. "As soon as Wilhelm Lazarus made a covenant with you, and Johnny was resurrected, neither of you had any use for me, so _you_ betrayed _our_ deal!"

Renfrew used his powers to pull Ciel off Decco. Ciel dropped to the ground to his hands and knees, gasping for breath, as the force of the telepathic attack pushed Decco back a few steps.

It was obvious Decco had been severely weakened by something, Sebastian observed.

Braydon and Brandon then stepped forward to keep Decco at bay threatening him with retaliation, despite Reaper policy not to get involved in _human_ affairs.

Lukas ran to Ciel, and brought him out of harms way.

"I did what you asked, Sebastian," Renfrew then started to say, "and I tracked down your son." He pointed to Decco. "Morning Star sent him back through time to be properly trained by Belial since at the time of his taking Belial was missing. Then he turned against Belial and supposedly imprisoned him in a void, whereas, your mentor was only on a secret vacation, returning only just yesterday."

Decco's eyes widened. "No, that can't be! That's impossible! _You're lying_!"

"I assure you, I'm not," Renfrew said. "Belial was only told to train you, not of your lineage, so not even he knew that you were Sebastian's son when Sebastian began training with Belial. My resources are reliable. You may be thousands of years older than your father chronologically, but you were born in the year 1671, to a human mother, Kassandra, and a demon father. And these twin _Reapers_ are your big brothers."

"I don't believe you!"

Ciel wiped his mouth of spittle that had come out when Decco was chocking him. "Life is fully of irony, half-breed. Or should I say, quarter-breed. Since Sebastian, a.k.a., Damascus is only half demon."

"Don't call me that! I am a full demon! This is all a _lie_!"

"Truth is stranger than fiction," Sebastian said with a smile. "But it matters not any longer. Regardless if you _are_ my missing son, I disown you. You murdered Bryan, a very good friend of mine and to the family, and Kassy, my wife, when she gave birth to you, poisoning her womb - all in later to engage in a selfish plight to wage civil war in Hell for a throne that will never be yours. And you attempted to murder by sons believing they may be a threat to you one day; Bryan protecting them with his life. He saved me when I was near death many years ago, but I could not be there to save him. And I regret that. And this I vow, _son_, you will pay for! I may only be half-demon, but I will be more demon that you will _ever_ be."

This angered Decco greatly. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, but before he could retaliate, a booming voice echoed across the seemingly empty cemetery, shouting, "_DECCOOOOOOO!"_

A dark, sinister hooded and cloaked entity suddenly appeared behind Decco and slashed at him with a massive Deathscythe shaped with a half-moon curved blade on a long pole. The standard Deathscythe for beginners and some veterans still preferred the older weapons.

Decco quickly jumped out of the way of the strike and the blade sliced with clean-cut through a tombstone, but he stumbled and fell back on his rear, then gazed up into the darkened face of this mysterious Reaper as he towered above him, the massive Deathscythe clutched in both black-gloved hands.

But Decco smirked, his brow sweating. "You caught me off-guard, interesting. I never sensed you coming. But do you really think that weapon can kill me?"

The mysterious Reaper pulled back his hood to reveal a familiar face with short black hair with gray streaks. Decco's mouth dropped open with shock. "The Fallen Reaper? Bryan? But I killed you!"

"You killed my original host, Bryan, but I have taken another body and altered this man's face with my powers in memoriam to him. My real name is Altima."

Altima reached into his cloak and pulled out a large crucifix made of iron and then stabbed it, thrusting it into Decco chest. Decco screamed out in pain, but it was not enough to kill him. Decco was much too powerful for a simple crucifix to bring his end. However, before his arrival, Decco had been weakened by something, his heavy breathing in the beginning was an indication of this and that he was on the run, and now he had little strength to pull it out. So he merely lain there, cringing in pain, his hands wrapped around its base.

Sebastian came to stand over him, his eyes glowering with anger.

"Now's your chance, father," Decco said, with a stream of blood coming from the left corner of his mouth. "Kill me, like you tried when I was an infant. It would've made any difference, however, I still murdered that human bitch!"

Sebastian raised a leg and then slammed it into the crucifix's butt-end so the end ejected itself out Decco's back, embed him into the ground. Decco cried out in god-awful pain.

"You once crucified me to a cross, I now do the same to you." Then Sebastian shook his head. "But no, this is too good for you," he said thinking. "You deserve worse for everything you have done. It is said a child is the representation of his parents. If a child fails in life, then the parents are to blame. But I didn't bring you up and you rebelled again Master Belial of your own violation. You became drunk with your own power. Somewhere in your existence you walked the wrong path and I do not take responsibility for that. Or you."

"I am a demon, there is no _wrong_ path for us."

"I beg to differ. There is order in all things."

Ciel came to stand by Sebastian's side. "So this is the great and all-powerful Decco I heard about? Pathetic!" He put in-turned fists to his hips. "You are the atypical, barbaric demon of biblical lore. Sebastian is more demon than you can or _could ever _be."

"But he is still my son and I am responsible for him, to a point."

"This crucifix won't hold me down forever, father. My strength will soon return and then I'll kill you and your arrogant, little, smart-mouth master. I'll kill you all!"

"I agree, it will not hold you for long. So something more permanent must be done. Your tyranny must come to an end. And I will not allow any harm to come to my current master's." Sebastian grabbed Decco by the collar of his leather shirt, pulling the crucifix out of the ground as he did so, the movement causing Decco agonizing pain. "I will return shortly, my lords. In the meantime, do amuse yourselves."

And they both vanished.

Ciel quickly looked around. "Where did they go?"

"To where it all began…" Braydon said.

"And where it will end," Brandon finished.

* * *

A tremendous roar filled Decco's ears as he and his father winked-in. He had to clamp his hands hard to his ears because the sound was so deafening. But his father merely stood over him seemingly unaffected by the thunderous noise.

Decco looked up at him - Sebastian Michaelis, Damascus, whoever he called himself, even _father_ - as Decco sat on his rear. But he still couldn't except it fully. All these years, he was having a person conflict with his very own father. And yet, when Damascus found out only moments ago, he never flinched or expressed shock at it. He had known or secretly suspected?

Damascus's black hair whipped ferociously in a natural wind with white snow? - no ash. Showering down upon the either area. White _hot_ ash.

Decco stood and turned, looking to glimpse at a gigantic volcano erupting in the background towering over a stone, sea-faring town bordering a bay, and larva flowing down its mountainside. Screams filled the spaces between eruptions. Men, women and children were seen fanatically running for their lives, their flesh burnt, the air stinking of sulfur, and most had already collapsed from suffocation, their bodies quickly being entombed by the falling volcanic debris.

The crucifix that Altima and his father further pressed into his chest had dissolved, but he still felt very much weakened. He had battled against many of Morning Star's minions, and against Belial himself, only to make a final escape to where he _felt_ Damascus was - in the Phantomhive cemetery plot for one last attempt to kill him.

But he became suddenly out-numbered. A fatal error. He had tried to avoid this by sending Nailz and Pyro, and then Johnny, to gather information on whom he could be facing - but they all failed.

"Where is this place, father?" he shouted over the noise, turning around.

"Your last _hooray, _son." Damascus smiled. "Die well…_Christian_."

Then he vanished.

"Father! _Wait_!" Decco attempted to use his powers to vanish from this place, but he could not do it. He had been too weakened by previous fighting.

The ground quaked violently and he fell to his knees, the thunderous, continuous sound of the volcano hurting his ears. He got back to his feet, but then found himself tumbling down a hill. When he landed, he spit out ash, and then through the shower of whiteness, thought he saw an unbelievable sight - Master Belial, with his white hair and wearing a dark cloak, untouched by the natural disaster befalling the area. He was shielding a burned, naked, crippled young boy, laying on the ground at his feet. Nothing was touching either of them, but the boy had already felt the devastating effects of the volcano, and was near-death. But an invisible barrier was surrounding them from the elements at the moment.

They appeared to be talking, or rather the boy was looking up, even at the brink of death, with a stern look of determination on his severely burnt face. Master Belial gave him something, then after a moment, took it back when the boy collapsed with his arm outstretched, the boy's hand opening.

And then it struck him. This is the point in time rumored Master Belial recruited Damascus. Damascus's origin was Pompeii, Italy. A city by a bay in Ancient Rome that was destroyed and buried for over 1,500 years by a volcanic explosion - _this volcanic explosion! THIS CITY!_

Still on the ground, he then grabbed at the ash and stumbled to his feet. If he could get Master Belial's attention, he could ask to be transported back to safety, and then he would make his father pay for this indignity, this injustice of leaving him here.

He shouted, "Belial…_Master_ Belial, help me!" But apparently he could not hear his cry through the tremendous, thunderous roar from the volcano. "_MASTER BELIAL, HELP ME, PLEASE!_"

But then they both vanished.

"_NOOOOOOOO!_" he screamed. "_Take me with you!_"

He shouted profanities at the sky.

Another eruption quaked the ground and fell to his knees once more. But now he felt it was imperative to escape by any means necessary. He had to run away from Vesuvius!

He turned and ran away from the eruptions, his hands firmly pressed to his ears. But even then, the sound could not be fully muffled. Fires were all around him. And soon he found himself at the edge of the harbor. Perhaps he could swim or take a boat to a safer place. But when he got to the water's edge, he stopped. The sea was bubbling, boiling with steam, and those people who thought they could escape Vesuvius's wrath by swimming away, paid the ultimate price and were boiled alive, their flesh burnt; corpses floated on the surface, some on fire. And all the boats in the harbor were on fire and sunk.

Loud streaking, long-sounding whistles began to sound, and fireballs were suddenly launched into the air from the mouth of Vesuvius, soaring high into the soup-murky clouds blanketing the sky. And then they fell back down to earth, through the clouds, hitting the ground like giant massive cannon-balls filled with nitroglycerin. With every strike to the ground, and there were successive strikes, massive amounts of debris jettisoned in every direction.

He had to drop to his stomach to avoid debris from a large rock that came his way. It bounced along the ground and then slammed into a person attempting to run away. It vaporized him like water into steam. He clamped his hands over his ears harder, his ears subjected to the tremendous roar of the volcano and now to the constant, ear-piercing whistling of the fireballs.

Was this what humans called _Karma_, that supernatural happenstance that plagued someone, bringing misfortunate and bad-luck to balance out a run of fortuitousness?

If so, then this was indeed is _last horray_. But he would not give-in just yet. He was smart and crafty. Morning Star, Belial, and their minions, would not find him here. He would escape, hideout and start anew, rebuild his army of darkness. And then they would all be sorry. They will all suffer his wrath!

Another long-sounding whistle streaked across the sky. He turned to determine its direction, and his eyes went wide, as the giant fireball slammed straight into his face.

* * *

When Sebastian returned he was expressing a straight-face smile. His twin sons, Braydon and Brandon, were standing next to Altima talking. Lukas was discussing something with Renfrew.

Ciel had his hands on his hips, standing alone. "Where is Decco?" he demanded. The others crowed around.

Sebastian took a moment. "He is gone. He won't trouble us any longer," he said.

"I never took you for the revengeful type. Did you kill him?"

Sebastian eyed him, as if the question was inappropriate. Even though he had never truly known Decco as a son, or _Christian_, as he and Kassy would liked to have named him, he still felt a kinship with him. A father always did with each of his children, matter how they turned out or who they were. But he also had no sympathy for the _person_ who killed Bryan and his wife. He knew Decco would die at Pompeii, he was too weak to escape. And it was necessary to safeguard his master's, his new "family".

He exploited his son's weakness. Did that make him a bad father? No, that made him a good…

Sebastian turned to Altima without replying to Ciel's question. "Thank you, Altima. Once again, I owe you my deep felt gratitude. You have always been there for my sons and I - and again, you came."

"You asked me to protect your sons and so I have," Altima said. "When Decco killed Bryan, however, I felt I failed in this. Your son's escaped just barely and I had to find another host. But Bryan's spirit still lives within mine; we are one. Recently, a great deal has changed within _Reaperdum_ and your sons are able to visit you now, and not only on the Winter Solstice, and in full view of William T. Spears, Head of Reaper Affairs, and his 'Looking Glass'." He smirked. "I am now First Prime of the High Council. Corruption charges were finally brought against the council members on misappropriation of power. They have been relieved of their duties and a temporary council, with elections soon, put in its place. There will be reform within the council and past decisions will be revisited due to these charges."

"Congratulations," Sebastian said honestly.

"Um, Sebastian," Lukas said, "care to explain to _us_ who this person is?"

"Yes, Sebastian," Ciel agreed. "Don't be rude."

Sebastian smiled thin. "My apologizes, my lord's. This is Altima, a very dear friend of mine. He is also mentor and trainer to my twin sons. You asked earlier how my sons became Reapers. Well, it was thanks to Altima and his followers who opened the door for them. Braydon and Brandon are the first demon - well, quarter-demon - Reapers. They became full-fledged Reapers after passing all the tests with flying colors not long after they met you, Master Lukas. But they kept their demon lineage a secret."

"But now that I am First Prime of the High Council - even though elections will be coming soon, I have a great deal of supporters to make the appointment permanent - they will no longer need to hide the fact they are demons, and they are well-liked too. I knew they would not be accepted as demons by others of their kind due to their human mother and their _good_ temperament - that's why I decided to educate them and trained them in _Reaperdeum, _the Reaper Arts. And there is a bonus. They don't have their father's hunger; well, not to _his_ severity. They supplement it with Ambrosia, a special fruit grown only on trees _Reaperdum_. Unfortunately, it doesn't work with Sebastian."

"I fed them when they were children in moderation," Sebastian said. "If in excess, then they would have my deep hunger as a demon."

"And that is why I believe the Ambrosia works for Braydon and Brandon, because their bodies weren't spoiled to the extent of yours was with dark energy," Altima said. "Although, you have attempted to moderate it yourself by trying 'breaks' between meals. Roanoke, with the Smythe family, and now here, with Ciel Phantomhive. It has been three years, hasn't it? You must be hungry."

"I am," Sebastian replied, "and three years has always been my limit."

"It's been three years since we made the covenant," Ciel said nervously.

"Don't fret, Master, I am no longer hungry to the extent of almost devouring the dark energy with the Johnny Lazarus. My hunger has been quelled, momentarily, but even I am at a loss of how. But I am glad, nonetheless."

"As am I," Ciel replied relieved. Then he shrugged. "But I am a man of my word and I do _not_ break a vow. Even if it will eventually my soul."

"All for vengeance?" Altima said. "How hollow."

"It is not _hollow_, Reaper," Ciel said with firm conviction. "Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive, our parents, will be avenged!"

"And then what? Sebastian will devour your soul and you'll leave Lukas alone once more. And like Renfrew Phantomhive, disembodied, your spirit will spend the rest of entity within Sebastian's belly. An aimless existence." Altima gave Sebastian a casual glance, then cleared his throat. "However, I am not one to judge. I am possessing the body of another human right now. But once I get my old body back, it will no longer be a problem. Life is about self-preservation, however the form."

"Yes," Ciel said. Then muttered, "But I do not want to die yet." However, with a sideways glance, Ciel knew Sebastian shad still heard him and the butler/demon smiled coolly.

Something _thumped_ in the momentary silence of the darkness and Altima raised his head and looked around. He said, "Who else is here?"

Sebastian looked sharply around. He shrugged. "No one else came with us, I promise," he said.

Altima eyed all areas of the cemetery and quickly focused in on a shoe sticking out from behind a half-moon tombstone. He pointed. "Over there; there is something behind that marker."

The entire company followed Altima and came to stand looking down at the lifeless body of a boy. "That's Johnny Lazarus," Lukas said. He bent down and checked for a pulse, but felt nothing. Then leaned in and put an ear to Johnny's chest. His heart was not beating. "He appears to be…dead. He must have come with his master and hid behind this tombstone to watch Decco fight you."

Sebastian took off a white glove and brushed back the boy's forehead checking for a covenant. Nothing. Setting a hand against his forehead, he felt nothing at all. "It appears Decco is dead, or his dark influence would still be controlling the boy. When Decco died, so did all essence of him. This body is empty."

Altima nodded. "Johnny Lazarus's soul was 'processed' nearly three years ago, I know this because I remember the events of his soul collecting. It was heart-wrenching, but we will not get into that right now. This body is nothing but an hollow shell, but it is in perfect form." He put a hand to his chin, as if an idea just struck. "Perhaps _someone_ can make use of it?" He looked at Renfrew.

"Me?" Renfrew pointed at himself.

"Reapers know of your tragic tale and we know that you are blacklisted for committing a 'unforgivable sin', but everyone deserves a second chance."

"Wait. You want _me_ to take Johnny Lazarus's body?"

Braydon and Brandon looked at each other befuddled. "I…don't know if that is allowed?" Braydon said, and Brandon shrugged. "Paper work must be done, if this is to be categorized as a Renewal."

"I will make it allowed," Altima said. "Now that I am First Prime of the High Council, certain privileges and decisions can be made if deemed appropriate. And let William protest, I don't care. I am _his_ boss now. Renfrew Phantomhive has earned it. He has honored his family name in helping his cousins. I even witnessed his sacrifice to distract Mathu Kelvin to allow Ciel and Lukas, and others to escape, however brief. It demonstrates how sincere it is and sorry. He also protected Sebastian even at the cost of having his spirit vaporized by Mathu Kelvin, who has the power to do so. You rendered Sebastian unconscious to protect a secret that seemingly had no purpose, and thought important at the time, but now is moot. Johnny Lazarus died three years ago. If you wish to live again Renfrew Phantomhive, then choose now."

"Do it, Renny!" Lukas said with excitement. "And then you can live with us!"

"Now wait just a minute," Ciel protested.

Lukas looked at him confused. "What's the problem, brother? He's helped us in many ways. If he decides in favor, then Renny will need a place to live. He has no one else."

"And how will we explain him?"

"That he is our cousin. We'll leave out the details, or we'll design a clever cover story."

"And what if someone recognizes him? Say, a family member we don't know about or perhaps a member of the Illuminati, who _had_ contact with Johnny Lazarus years prior when he _was_ alive?"

"I…didn't think of that." Lukas frowned.

"Make your choice, Renfrew Phantomhive," Altima said urgently. "The clock is ticking, and the body will not remain inhabitable for long. Will you choose to live an aimless existence as a spirit never knowing if redemption will come for you, albeit with special powers. Or, will you choose a second chance _at_ redemption by living in the body of another. Problems will always arise, like that your cousin Ciel has mentioned, but dealing with such issues is a part of life."

"He's younger that I was when I died," Renfrew remarked. "Say ten years old?"

"Yes, but your experience over the part century and a half will vastly give you an advantage. People will say you are a prodigy with your highly developed intelligence and wisdom." Altima chuckled.

Renfrew looked at the body of Johnny Lazarus, then at both Lukas and Ciel. Lukas smiled and nodded without question. Ciel merely shrugged, as if to say, "It's up to you."

But it was someone else he really needed permission from, because he will the one "looking after" him like a father-figure, and he turned to look at Sebastian. "Is it okay?"

Sebastian smiled. "You are welcome to stay with us as long as you like, Renfrew, like I have said. Whether in spirit form or as a human. But just remember, if you do decide to take host of this body, you will lose the ability to do many things, and you will be subjected to human limitations, such as eating regularly, sleeping, bathing, dressing, and honing a well-rounded education. But I will help you in all these areas as I am with Master Ciel and Master Lukas. And I will teach you how to become a proper gentleman in English society."

"You'll also have to learn and memorize your multiplication tables," Lukas joked, smiling. "Now that's hard, and Sebastian can be a real stickler on exams."

"I am ready for all that and more," Renfrew with confidence. "How do I take possession of the body?"

Altima's brow rose, he probably thought Renfrew wished for more time after hearing what the others said. "Just sit down into the body and I will attach your spirit to it," he said. "Then you will awaken."

Renfrew took a moment to look at the face of Johnny Lazarus. That will be his face for now on. Renfrew Phantomhive will live again, but in the body of another, and with a face he'll have to get used to when looking in a mirror. But he was prepared for that. It was not who a person was on the outside, but the person you are inside, your spiritual-self, that determines who you are as a person with affirmation.

He sat down into the body and his spirit sunk into it, fading into it. He felt a little spark, almost like that from static electricity. It was said the human body had an self-generating electricity within it, scientists claimed chemical impulses did this.

He felt blood flowing through his veins, his heart beating, and his mind racing with thoughts. Then he gasped in a breath as his lungs began to work, and he opened his eyes.

Renfrew looked at everyone with new eyes.

"How do you feel, Renfrew Phantomhive?" Altima asked.

Renfrew smiled. "Alive," he said happily.

Then he tried to stand and fell back down. He tried again, but the same thing happened. He _felt_ his new legs, he even lightly tapped both of them with a finger. The muscle bounced with the touch. But they weren't responding to his mental impulses. "Um, why can't I walk?"

"It will take time to assert yourself into that body," Altima said understandingly. "You have been a spirit for many years without the need to _be_ human. Walking for you will be like a toddler for the very first time. However, it shouldn't take long as Johnny Lazarus's brain has already mastered this skill. Once your spirit fully integrates with his body, you will begin to walk properly like you did."

Renfrew sighed relieved.

Lukas then crouched down with his hands behind his back and said, "In the meantime, I'll give you a piggy-back ride. You can learn to walk in the mansion in private and not in some cemetery."

"Oh for - Lukas, no! I forbid it!" Ciel said. "This is demeaning for a Phantomhive. Let Sebastian do it."

Lukas smiled. "I don't mind," he said. "Do you, Renny?"

"That is the third time you called me Renny, not Renfrew."

Lukas turned fully to him and said, "That's your name, isn't it? My memory still has pieces missing, but I feel a warmth and kinship with you, cousin. In time, I may remember what fully happened on that cold night I almost died, but right now, I am happy to have you here with us. Both of us, _alive_."

Renny put an arm over his eyes and began to cry, tears then flowed down his cheeks. "Thank you. Thank you all for this second chance. I promise to try to live a better life and hopefully redeem myself in the eyes of God."

Lukas smiled, brining down Renny's arm to look into his teary-eyes. "Perhaps Renny, you already have." And made Renny look at his hand made of flesh and blood. "The world works in mysterious ways, and so does God." Lukas then turned around, put his hands behind his back again, and hauled up, carrying him. "Together we'll reassert ourselves back into humanity."

Ciel rolled his eyes. "Fine. Let's go, we have a party to get ready for." He looked at Altima and Braydon and Brandon. "And you are all invited."

_**To be continued…**_


	38. The Christmas Party And Conclusion

_**CHAPTER 38 - "THE CHRISTMAS PARTY AND CONCLUSION"**_

"Tell me again, brother, why we are switching costumes?" Lukas said, as he and Ciel changed out of their chosen costumes for the Christmas party ball that Ciel had invited almost all of London to. They were in Ciel's bedchambers.

Ciel originally picked out a dark blue suit with a small hat and a large white bow, but then realized Lizzie had already seen him in it. He said he had worn it during _their_ private costume ball before Lukas had be reunited with Ciel and Ciel didn't want to be dressed the same. He felt that a lady shouldn't see a gentleman in the same costume twice if it could be helped.

Lukas had chosen something similar but in a lighter shade of grey. Lizzie had bought two of the similar styled costumes for Ciel, but Ciel had only worn the dark blue. Lizzie had not seen him in the light grey one. Both had companying masks and small, amusing hats, but the hats weren't necessary today with the masks. However flamboyant, the masks disguised their true identities. And apart from the different colored costumes, they looked like twins through-and-through.

Most of the guesses wore masks. It was a costume ball, after all.

"A proper gentleman never wears the same costume twice in the presence of a lady," Ciel said, emphasizing his reason for changing. "And she has already seen me in this, despite Elizabeth buying it for me."

"But I would've thought you'd _want_ to wear something she bought for you?" Lukas said, now dressing in the dark blue costume. He buttoned up the breast vest.

"Please, don't argue with me, Lukas. This is not the time. And we are pressed. Just - "

_THUMP!_

Something hit the door to Ciel's bedchambers and rather forcefully. They had closed the door because of their change. They looked at the door.

"What was that?" Lukas said.

"_Owww…_" came a low, hurtful voice. Then the door handle turned and Renny walked in, rubbing his forehead. "I need to remember to open doors now, I can't walk through them anymore." The sound of the party guests conversing and music resounded from the hallway coming from downstairs filled the room.

Lukas snickered. Now that Renny was human, there were a lot of things he'd have to get used to again.

The boys continued dressing.

"Cousin Ciel, some guests request an audience with you in the Study," Renny said. "That is why I am here. Sebastian has told me to tell you." He was dressed in a white, angelic suit, similar to Ciel and Lukas, that Sebastian had quickly wiped up with his own special _preparation methods_ that seemed fitting to his Renny's appearance. "Sebastian has already escorted them there."

"Why now?" Ciel said annoyed. "And who are they? I will not talk business today."

Renny shrugged. "I am unsure. But from what Sebastian told me, he was adamant for me to come get you."

"I will not be fetched like some dog," Ciel said. He fumbled with the large bow of his costume. Lukas helped him straighten it.

"Woof!" Lukas then said with a crooked smile.

Ciel eyed him, knowing that was a knock on him being the Queen's loyal guard dog. "Not funny."

"You never could take a joke, brother."

Ciel, Lukas and Renny all made their way through the hallways of masked, costumed guests. The mansion was decorated in tactful Christmas decore, with obvious touches of Lizzie's amateurish hand. The sound of Violinists and other musicians playing scores from famous Classic repertoire serenaded all those who were attending amidst laughter and conversion. Alcohol was bought and a massive amount of food was prepared. And everything under Sebastian's direction. Unfortunately Lizzie was late. Or was it fashionably late?

When Ciel opened the Study door, he saw two males inside. A taller man in a black tuxedo, and a shorter, but not much shorter, younger looking man in a white tuxedo, contrasting each other. And both wearing, butterfly masks, embedded with colorful beads, which was apparently all the rage these days. Most of the guests were wearing them. The masks Ciel, Lukas and Renny were wearing were flat against their faces, covering the upper half of their faces with small eye holes and were the color of their costumes.

"Yes?" Ciel said. "I was told you wished to speak with me? Make it quick. Can you not see I am hosting a party?"

"Forgive us for interrupting this gayish occurrence, my lord Ciel Phantomhive, but we wanted to speak with you urgently, and also thank you," the taller man said. He reached up and pulled off his mask. The younger man did also.

Renny gasped. "Thann Von Strauss and Spencer Von Strauss?"

Both of them looked bewildered. Then Renny took off his mask, and then Thann and Spencer gasped in return, as if recognizing _him_. "Johnny Lazarus?" Spencer said, his voice elevated with shock.

Ciel and Lukas exchanged a glance.

Lukas shut the door. "There is much explanation needed here," he said. "Let us begin from the beginning."

"That would be prudent, but the short version as we have guests waiting," Ciel said.

The Von Strauss's began with their story, then Ciel and Lukas, and Renny finished with their side - but each story apparently included Decco. And it was relief to both Thann and Spencer to learn the demon was now dead. Ciel further explained about his association with the Illuminati and that the Von Strauss's had nothing to fear and no needed to hide.

"So, you snuck into the party to talk with me about the Illuminati?" Ciel said.

"In a matter of speaking," Thann said. "After we spoke with Sebastian Michaelis and briefly explained we knew much, he insisted we be brought to the Study and you summoned to hear us out, so all this can be laid out in the open. But I am pleased to hear, despite our father dead, that we have nothing to fear from _our enemies_ within the Illuminati with you to protect us. We thank you for that. You don't know how appreciative we are, and for this, we also wish to make a business proposal for an strong association between the Von Strauss Company and the _Funtom_ Cooperation."

"That would be an equitable arrangement," Ciel said, and Lukas nodded in agreement. "But let us not talk business here. And don't call it 'protection', call it _a favor_. You see, despite your hatred of the Illuminati, I think it prudent you continue your association with the Illuminati as their envoy, Thann Von Strauss, to be our eyes and ears, and to report back to us about their nefarious activities and deeds."

Both Thann and Spencer said, "_Whaaaaaat!_" in unison.

"Not under any circumstances!" Thann said strongly. "I am finished with the Illuminati."

"Why? Lazarus is dead, so are his main three main facilitators: Thibeau, McDermott, and your father included. Do you have any other enemies within the Illuminati I should made aware of?"

"No, but Spencer was very out-spoken about them. And then there is Krystal."

"Ah yes, your sister will not be forgotten and neither will the deeds that have been done," Ciel said. "But with you on the inside other similar atrocities can then be avoided. We can put a stop to the senseless slaughter of innocent people…and children." Ciel looked to Lukas, and Lukas nodded agreeable. "And if we do learn of similar practices being upheld, we can hold them accountable and punish them."

Thann thought for a moment. "While I hate their practices, there are some important and influential people involved within," he said. "With a secret association between us, and with other people you trust within, we _could_ attempt to keep the rest of them in-line."

"Good," Ciel said. "Henceforth, I'll advise that you be elevated in status to Sub-Head of the British Illuminati branch. Another man, Kyle Livingston is next in line to replace Lazarus, however."

"Sub-Head? But that would mean I am second in leadership. Even above any new facilitators."

"Correct. Do you have a problem with that?"

Thann was speechless.

Ciel looked at Spencer. He was a tall, young man who had an innocent face. "Furthermore, I wish for _you_, Spencer Von Strauss, to be one of those three main facilitators. You are seventeen, but age isn't important. There are two other men I wish to employ in the other slots as well."

"No way!" Spencer protested. "I wish to have absolutely nothing to do with the Illuminati! I can understand the importance of my brother staying on, but I am still _very_ out-spoken about them! I hate them!"

"Then perhaps you can change them from the inside, make new policies and practices," Ciel said slyly. "As your brother said, some very important and influential people are _associated_ with the Illuminati."

Ciel gave Lukas a sideways glance. Lukas shared the glance and gave a short nod. _Bryon Kelvin_.

"But you don't have to decide now. Enjoy the party. We can finalize things later." Ciel padded down his costumed jacket. "Damn, I forgot it. Lukas, please escort the Von Strauss's to the party. I forgot something in my bedchambers and I must retrieve it." Then he recalled something else. "By the way, which one of you broke the handle to my desk and ruffled through the papers on top?" Pointing to his desk.

Spencer put up a hand. "That would be me. I was looking for a gun or some form of weapon. I was furious when I learned Mathu Kelvin murdered my friend, Trent Banes. Sorry."

"Ah. Very well. I suppose that mystery is solved. That will be all."

"Please, come with me," Lukas then said, and they left with Renny in tow, putting on their masks.

Ciel returned to his bedchambers and plunked a small box from his bedside table. Here he had left the gift he had bought for Lizzie only a week before when changing. He had wrapped it himself and he knew that she would like it. It wasn't a ring, as most people would assume by the size of the box. Lizzie was his fiancée, but he wasn't ready to "commit" in that fashion, even though he did care for her - or was he duty-bound as it was an arranged engagement? He wasn't quite sure. Nobles marry nobles, that is the way of things in this day and age, even if they were relatives. Elizabeth was his cousin.

But he was only thirteen and he wasn't sure how long he had left until Sebastian devoured his soul. So, he did not want to commit to a future if he didn't have one.

He left his bedchambers and returned to the main party hall which constituted of the main vestibule and other rooms Sebastian had designated for guests to venture in. All other rooms were securely locked. The main vestibule, which also met the main staircase was large enough to house a hundred people or more. It was also where the Christmas Tree was placed and most of the decorations were put up.

He began to venture down the main staircase from the second floor, when he suddenly heard a loud streaking noise in the form of "_CEILLLLLLLLLLLL!_"

It was undeniably, unmistakably familiar.

Suddenly Lizzie burst through the front door, her long blonde curls whipping behind her, and she ran across the main vestibule. She wore a rather stunning pink dress costume with a butterfly mask adorned with sparking gem-like decorations.

She ran through the crowd of people, as if know exactly where she was going…

And into the arms of _Lukas_?

He gasped, but then realized his mistake. Lukas was his twin, and in that costume Lizzie bought him, Lukas looked exactly like him and she had seen him it before and it was so distinct, so naturally she would think it was him - he stood out like a beacon of light in a dark hollow. He'd correct her immediately.

Then suddenly, what happened next stunned everyone in the room - and Lizzie kissed Lukas smack dab on the lips with a large kiss. She must have been so happy Ciel had agreed to the Christmas party, so in her excitement she had lost her senses and expressed her utter joy of it.

But then his shock elevated as everyone then began to clap and an almost collective "_Awwwww_," resounded from the crowd. Everyone knew Ciel Phantomhive and Lady Elizabeth Midford were engaged and the guests must have thought this affection was cute. But _that_ was not _him_!

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Lizzie said excitedly. "I knew you would change your mind." She wrapped her arms around Lukas's in a tight hug and another round of "_Awwwww_," resounded through the crowd.

Ciel stood on the main staircase, unknowingly gripping the banister tightly. Even though it was an honest mistake, Lukas wasn't correcting her. Switching costumes _was _a mistake. Lizzie thought Lukas was him and now they were parading around the party hall as a couple. But if he corrected her now, he would embarrass her, and then she would start to cry. And he didn't want that. This party was mainly for her sake. Because he wanted to make her happy. But now _he_ was mad.

Sebastian suddenly appeared behind Ciel and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Don't fret, my lord," he said. "You are the one Lady Elizabeth cares for."

"I am not fretting," he said, but he couldn't deny his anger. "Only, Lizzie never kissed _me_ in that manner."

"In her eyes, she just did. And she seems to be enjoying your company currently."

"But that _isn't_ me. Lizzie's _mine_."

"Jealousy does not become you, my lord," Sebastian said. "But it is only natural for one brother to want what the other one has. There are many examples of this in human literature and biblical lore."

"So what are you saying, Sebastian? That Lukas is interested in Elizabeth?"

"I am not saying that at all, Master Ciel. I am only taking note of the mistake made whereas Lady Elizabeth believes that _he _is you because you switched costumes at the last minute. You swayed to vanity. You did not want her seeing you in something she saw you in before, just because you neglected to go shopping."

Ciel sighed, releasing his grip on the banister. Sebastian was right. "Can you please tell Lukas I want to see him alone at the earliest convenience, _if_ he can be pulled away from _my_ fiancée?"

"Of course, my lord. I will tell him discreetly. Where shall I tell him to meet you?"

"If it can arranged, my bedchambers in five minutes."

"Yes, my lord. I shall tell him."

Five minutes extended to ten before Lukas was able to meet Ciel in his bedchambers. And at this point, Ciel was very cross that he had to wait the extra time. Even waiting that five minutes was enough to anger him greatly. He stood there in the middle of the room with his arms folded across his chest with scowl when Lukas opened the door. "You're late!"

"Brother, where have you been? People are wondering where you - or rather _I_ - am," Lukas said.

"Switch costumes with me." Ciel got right to the point. "I saw what happened. Everyone believes I am you. I wish to correct this grievance error immediately."

"Oh, you mean the kiss. I'm sorry, brother. It was not my fault. I told you switching costumes at the last moment was a mistake."

"Notwithstanding. We need to correct it _now_!"

Once they were finished switching costumes which seemed to take less time than it took to first dress in them, they returned to the party hall. Both walked down the main staircase into the crowd of guests, when Elizabeth's voice was heard: "_Lukas!_" she said excitedly.

Lizzie never said _his_ name like an excited Irish banshee. It was as if she knew it wouldn't sound proper. She then gave him an affectionate peck on the left cheek. Now she thought Lukas _was_ Lukas and his mouth opened agape.

She looked at him strangely. "What's the matter, Ciel? I gave you a much bigger kiss only moments before. Don't be jealous. You _are_ my fiancée, after all."

Lukas tried to hide a smile. "Care to dance with me, Lukas? Then Ciel can have the rest of the evening with _me_, and then give me my present."

"Um, sure," he said a little nervous. Then shrugged. "Sorry brother, I can't be rude to the lady." And he smiled as she lead him away.

Renny, standing at the foot of the main staircase next to the large banister, seemingly hidden, dressed in his white costume and mask, snickered. "That's two for Lukas, I saw everything," he said.

"Oh, shut-up."

Sebastian suddenly came to stand next to him again and put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't fret, Master Lukas. It is an arranged engagement, they were met to be. Your secret is still safe."

Ciel frowned. Obviously Sebastian, knowing Lukas and he had switched costumes prior, thought _he_ was Lukas now. "I'm Ciel. We switched costumes again. There was a mistake and Lizzie thought -" Then the butler's words finally struck him. "Wait - _what _secret?"

* * *

After the party, once all the guests had departed. Even Braydon and Brandon and Altima had secretly made an appearance but were introduced as merely invited guests, but for whom Sebastian waited fondly on. Sebastian was finally able to relax.

He told the servants to go to bed and clean-up would begin tomorrow. Ciel and Lukas had also retired. Even with in their social status, they were still boys and boys needed proper sleep. And they were exhausted. A little time after they had dozed off, he looked in on them. Ciel was sound asleep, clutching his favorite pillow and Lukas was hugging his stuffed bunny.

Lady Elizabeth was one of the last guests to leave, but even she was asleep as she and her lady servant left in their carriage. She was muttered sweet nothings about the party in her dreams.

He retired as well, but he wasn't much of a sleeper. So he retired to the Study and reviewed some financial paperwork and also took to repairing Ciel's desk drawer. Even though he was not physically in the room, he had observed everything and had heard everything spoken between the Phantomhive's and Von Strauss's inside this room. But it was no big secret and he was told about it afterwards.

Vincent Phantomhive was a member of the Illuminati but had recanted his membership when it was learned the Illuminati were engaging in nefarious deeds that even Vincent Phantomhive protested. When _Ciel_ Phantomhive was approached by a member of the Illuminati one day, he offered the Phantomhive's support and money to the Illuminati along with some special concessions, which essentially, made Ciel the unofficial head of the British branch. Few people knew this, and Kyle Livingston, the next in line to replace Wilhelm Lazarus, was one of the people who did and was glad about their _arrangement_ in this light. Kyle Livingston was the figurehead while Ciel Phantomhive was the power behind the throne.

As it should be.

For a boy of only thirteen, Ciel Phantomhive was indeed a very powerful and staunch figure within London society, and if he had the Illuminati in his back pocket, then he was truly _godly_. For, if you owed the Illuminati, you _owned the world _- so to speak. At least in the British Commonwealth. Illuminati factions existed elsewhere in the world, especially in America, but his master only concerned himself with Britain. If the Illuminati became troublesome elsewhere, then things would need to be dealt with accordingly.

As he was making a few calculations in his head, the memory of what happened to the covenant in Ciel's eye distracted him. What _had_ happened to alter the covenant design?

He remembered at the time he was filled with an intense rage, an overwhelming anger and hunger that threatened to engulf his entire being, and if he didn't act on it he would lose his sanity. Then, all of sudden, after an unexplained "push" from his master, and an exchanged hard stare between the two of them, an emotional change gave purchase to a serenity within him. Their connection brought upon a change he had never before experienced, and once again, he fell back into calmness after the covenant slightly altered itself before him. Ciel obviously didn't notice the change - and why would he? - but he did, and it affected him greatly. He never told his master what happened, there was no need. And yet, even now, he couldn't explain why it had happened.

Ciel's words: "_You are my butler, my _servant_, and you will obey my orders…You will always be mine exclusively - until the end…And don't you forget that, Sebastian."_

Something _within_ these words was a trigger to alter his unstable emotional state at the time, and however it came about - whether it was Ciel Phantomhive's desire or want for him to return to being himself, demanded it to be so. It was said, the emotion of a child towards a parental figure was strong if they admired and looked up to that parent. Did Ciel, albeit his acting strong on the surface, within indeed a scared little boy, and without Sebastian, would fall apart at the seems?

He recalled the time Ciel cried out to him, teary-eyed, after the monster Ironstadt had supposedly devoured him. And that cry-out was enough for Sebastian to break out of the belly of the beast.

The covenant was like a control mechanism, but who truly was the puppeteer here?

But the change in the covenant rid him of the pain felt for losing his family - his wife dying, which hurt him deeply, even though he was a demon, even after 212 years.

He smirked, shook his head, and then returned back to his calculations. They were merely _theories_, nothing concrete. And regardless of the reason, he had no qualms about how or why.

Things were back to normal.

_THUMP!_

Came a forceful hit to the closed Study door. Sebastian snapped his attention to it.

"_Owwww…_" came a low, hurt voice. "Not again," Renfrew Phantomhive said.

With a whisk of his power, Sebastian opened the door with a form of telekinesis, and saw Renfrew - _Master_ Renfrew Phantomhive - on the other side rubbing his face. He shook his head. "You are not a ghost any longer, Master Renfrew. You can not walk through doors anymore."

"I keep on forgetting," he said. "It will take me time to become accustomed to being human once more."

"Why are up at this ghostly hour?"

Renfrew smirked sarcastically. "I just wanted to thank you again for everything you did for me."

"I'm confused, what exactly did I do?" Sebastian said. "If I recall, you rendered me conscious for most of this _adventurous_ ordeal. It is _you_ who protected Master Ciel and Master Lukas as I slept. I don't see any thanks to _me_ is necessary. It is _I_ who should be thanking you. Which, I shall. Thank you, Master Renfrew."

"Master Renfrew," Renny repeated. "I don't know if I can get used to that."

"It is only proper. And it is the title of your status as a member of the household now. Which, I may add, is growing abundantly as of late. Only eight months ago, your cousin, Master Ciel, appeared to be the last surviving member of the Phantomhive lineage. Now, there is Master Lukas and yourself."

"That is another thing. I need a history, something people will believe."

"You are a distant cousin, for which is in truth. You are residing with us for an extended period of time. That is all that is needed for now. If a more in depth history is needed, we will elaborate with a few exaggerations to make it sound _more _truthful. In the meantime, do not worry about it."

"I won't, and I won't let my new title change me, either."

"Very good. You are a caring person. Try not to allow Master Ciel to influence your perspective towards his bitter outlook of the world. The world is indeed a beautiful place to live in."

Renny nodded. "I will remember that. May I ask you another question?"

"You may ask me as many as you like."

"Did cousin Ciel die in the _other_ future you saw? Is that why you changed it?"

Sebastian's eyes widened with surprise, he never expected such a question. He cleared his throat, then nodded. "I mentioned I spent much of my time in the cliff dwellings of the _Anaasází_. Here, I used its power - which did not come from _this_ world, it is _alien _even to me - and I glanced into the future using _Sight Second_, a form of fortunetelling, where a person can briefly see the future unfold. And my mind immediately focused on the Phantomhive's and their lineage. I wanted to know how they prospered over the years since last I saw them, but I did not like what I saw. The family grew large, but then dwindled drastically for some reason after the introduction of the Hope Diamond. So many unexpected deaths occurred soon afterwards and the family then shrunk to only a few…

"Then I witnessed Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive perish in the fire that took their mansion and your cousin, Master Ciel, be taken by evil men to be sacrificed for an ungodly purpose. I was selfish at the time, I wanted more. And I was bored. So I saw an opportunity, and thus, made a covenant with Ciel, the seemingly last of the Phantomhive line when he was a the brick of death, and in doing do I suppose I did save him. I wanted his soul, but I knew I could cultivate it, make it darker. So I have waited."

"But you will one day devour his soul?"

"The covenant was made willfully and I have kept my end of the bargain. He, then, if he is truly a man of his word, will keep his end."

"And what if he doesn't?"

"I hope it will not come to that. I am rooted here until what Ciel asks is done. Until all who unjustly wronged him are punished, and this, as I am lead to believe, includes the elusive philanthropist, Bryon Kelvin, for which Master Ciel believes wholeheartedly is the catalyst to all his misery. But I will not kill forthright. I will obey Ciel's orders. I am his butler - and _your_ butler now - until the end."

"You really care for the Phantomhive family, don't you? They touched you more than you will admit."

"I admit, I do care forthe well-being of my master - now master's," Sebastian said straightly. Renny smirked sarcastically. "So, in turn, little boys, little _ten year old boys_, should be in bed."

"Funny, I don't feel tired." Suddenly Renny yawned, as if an overwhelming tiredness came over him. "On second thought, I think I'll go to my room now."

Sebastian nodded. "I think that would for the best. Sleep well, Master Renfrew. And remember, _open_ your door. You are not a ghost, you can't walk through solid objects _anymore_."

Renny waved the "joke" off. "Good night, Sebastian. Pleasant dreams."

"I believe I have had enough sleep to last a lifetime, Master Renfrew," Sebastian replied.

Renny smiled. He went to leave, but then stopped, and ran to Sebastian and hugged him. "Thank you, Sebastian. Even if you don't think you deserve any thanks. If it weren't for you, I would still be a ghost. And Merry Christmas, 'tis the season after all."

Renny then he left without allowing Sebastian to give a reply.

Sebastian sat shocked, he never expected to be hugged. Perhaps he did deserve _thanks_. Because if it _weren't _for him, none of the Phantomhive boys would be alive now without his "interference" in the timeline.

Did he care about the Phantomhive lineage more than he was willing to admit?

The irony of it all was he had indeed thrust himself into a fatherly-role for these children, albeit unintentionally. He was subservient, the Phantomhive butler under the guise of a sacred Faustian covenant with Ciel Phantomhive, but he was so much more that just that. He was also _their_ educator and a teacher of social grace and moral ethics, of a sort. Until the covenant ended, he had to abide by the terms of the contract, and if that meant playing the butler role and "father", then that was how it had to be.

Was it, subconsciously, a way to be a father to these children - something he missed out on with his own sons? Was he attempting to reenact that "feeling" he had so long ago? He _was_ half-human, he would always have human emotions. But no, what had happened, was an opportunity of convenience, albeit certain things had to be effected for it _to be_ an opportunity of convenience, for him to be at this stage of his life with these boys. So no, he did not believe he was attempting to return to a happier time in his life.

He was only doing what came natural for a demon.

So he was Sebastian Michaelis, butler, and companion to his master; no, master's.

In the beginning, it was just himself, Tanaka, the elderly Phantomhive butler, and the young master. But with the master's enemies, and Ciel being the Queen's loyal guard dog, he knew he needed more protectors for the young lord. So that is where the servants came in - gathered from many facets of life.

Finny, an experimental young boy programmed to murder and maim by scientists of unknown origin; Mey-Rin, trained as a marksman, a thief and an assassin, who one day attempted to rob the young master; and then Bardroy, an ill-begot soldier, who lost his drive for soldiery when he witnessed his entire regiment slaughtered on the battlefield. Through their _education_, he taught them to much more than to just be the master's protectors, he gave them a second chance at another life, as well.

Finny was now a happy-go-lucky gardener who loved the outdoors; Mey-Rin, albeit, an accident-prone maid with glasses that masked her true-self through a spell placed upon them to keep it sound; and Bardroy was the Phantomhive cook - well, Bardroy was still learning that new trade even after three years. In fact, they were all still _learning_. And that was good. For it is said, if you stop learning, you will die.

He didn't want anything to happen to young Ciel Phantomhive, thus the added protection. And each of the three were highly dedicated in doing so, even at the cost of their own lives. They believed they owned a debt to Sebastian and Ciel for saving them from their prior lives, giving them a rebirth. Well, in a way, that was true. And he accepted that debt.

So the question was revisited. Did he care for Ciel Phantomhive's well-being more than he was willing to admit? In truth, yes he did. But not because he had once known the Phantomhive's in a _previous_ _life_. In truth, he cared for not only Ciel Phantomhive's, but for each of the their _souls_.

And when the end came, he would certainly gorge himself on a hearty feast. Three souls, all with different dark histories.

And like in all things…

In the end, it is ultimately, indeed, all about self-preservation.

It always has been and it always will be.

THE END?


	39. Special Short Story: The Gift

_**BLACK BUTLER Short Story: THE GIFT**_

Breakfast for the Phantomhive's was a casual affair and Sebastian had prepared a wonderful meal of poached salmon, eggs, toast, with a choice of orange juice or milk.

Ciel chose Earl Grey tea instead.

Tea for Ciel was a normal thing and he was a creature of habit. Lukas chose orange juice while Renny had milk.

But as of late, Renny's digestive system had been in acute distress and it produced highly unfavorable results.

A low but muffled rumbling sounded as the trio sat in the Dining Hall, the silence of the moment giving it an even louder reverberation.

Ciel looked up from his plate, he was seated at the head of the elongated table as Lukas and Renny were on the sides seated next to him.

"What was that?" he demanded.

"What was what, cousin?" Renny said.

"That sound - " Ciel smelt it. "Renny!" he scolded. "That is disgusting!"

Renny's stomach also grumbled unfavorably. His face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, cousin Ciel. My stomach...hasn't been feeling well."

"I have been conducting research, Master Renfrew," Sebastian said, and stepped forward. He had been standing aside next to a meal trolley. "And I am most assured that you may be lactose intolerant, or rather, Johnny Lazarus's was. I suppose this is one of the many surprises with your new body Altima said would arise."

He went on to explain how dairy products such as milk, eggs, and others can affect the digestive tract of a person susceptible to such a thing and that there really was no explanation for it. "It is like an allergic reaction to certain foods," he said. He suddenly waved a hand in front of his face. Renfrew obviously had attempted to "hide" another attack, albeit in silence. "I believe it will be best to eliminate such foods from your diet, my lord. I will need to make up a list of what foods you can and cannot eat to avoid further occurrences of such a nature."

"Thank you, Sebastian," Renny said, then suddenly had another unavoidable digestive attack and a loud one. What did commoners call it: farting?

Lukas snickered.

Ciel said, "What childish nonsense."

Renny's eyes went wide. "Oh no..." he muttered.

Sebastian stepped away. "Oh no is right, Master Renfrew. I will need to disinfect this chair and add a scented candle in this room to dissipate the smell."

"That's not it. I, um..." He waved Sebastian over. Sebastian covered his nose. Renny whispered something.

"Oh dear," Sebastian said. Then whispered back, "I shall prepare a new change of clothes for you..."

* * *

Renny returned to his quarters after a few minutes of privately washing up.

He had been discreet and had excused himself from the dining table to use the toilet, but it was much more than that. He had accidentally soiled his underwear with his last digestive attack and had to clean-up and change.

Indeed there were difficulties with his new body, surprises he never expected. But how could anyone have known Johnny Lazarus in his life had been lactose intolerant and that diary would affect his body in such a way?

Wrapped in a towel from the waist down, he walked to his quarters from the visitor's toilet closet. Here, Sebastian was waiting for him with new pair of trousers and underwear.

"This is very embarrassing, Sebastian," he said, red-faced. "I have never, ever, soiled myself like that."

"There is always a first time for everything, Master Renfrew," Sebastian replied with an understanding smile. "Do not dwell on it."

"I love milk and eggs and now...I will never be able to have them again without digestive distress. I'll have to watch what is served at parties as well."

"I'll have to adjust the menu as well for your stomach," Sebastian mused. Then smiled. "But I do not believe it will be a bother. Soy milk and foods processed with soy beans can be very tasty if prepared properly."

"Does Bardroy know how to prepare soy beans to make edible food?" he asked, getting dressed.

"Bardroy is a mediocre cook, but what he doesn't know, I shall show him."

"Thank you, Sebastian. I would be simply lost without you."

Sebastian smiled. "Analogy inferred, Master Renfrew?" Knowing without Sebastian to help him, Renfrew would still be a ghost. "But take heart, my lord. We will nip this in the bud."

Renfrew nodded. "School in fifteen minutes in the Study?"

"Yes sir."

"I'll meet you down there."

"Very good, my lord." And Sebastian left.

* * *

A quarter past ten o'clock am, home school began. As the Phantomhive boys would be too much of a target in a regular school and too valuable, Sebastian had become their educator.

For this, Sebastian adore professor attire, including a long brown jacket and spectacles with chains attached at the sides. Atypical like a college or university Prof, and separate from his butler attire.

School was held in the Study. Ciel sat at his usual place behind his desk, while a couch was situated next to it for Lukas and Renny. Near the wall was a large chalkboard for the lessons to be conducted on. However, each boy had a lined-paged notebook in which work in.

"Now, everyday we engage in an arithmetic teaser that stimulates the mind analytically but also helps us think outside the box," Sebastian started. "Today's teaser will be tricky. You will have until the end of the lesson to come up with an answer, and I will give you time to do so."

"Get on with it," Ciel said impatiently. "Your teases are often a bore. They are much too easy."

Sebastian smiled. "I admit, I have gone easy on you as of late, but I assure you, my lord, today's will be trying."

"I'm eager to try, sounds like fun," Lukas said.

"So am I," Renny said. "Even though I have only been attending this home school for a short time, I have indeed learned quite a lot. Being a ghost, you don't need intelligence to walk through a wall."

"But you _do_ need intelligence to open a door," Ciel said smirking slightly, knowing how often Renny forgot he was human now and walked into a door instead of opening it.

"You're too cruel, cousin Ciel," Renny said.

"Anyway," Sebastian said. "Ready? Here we go. Write this down into your notebook and work it out amongst yourselves, or all together, if you wish. However, show your work. I will be checking each answer in turn.

11 x 11 = 4  
22 x 22 = 16  
33 x 33 = ?

"I am told some of the top college and university students have failed to ascertain the correct answer."

"So do you think _we_ can get the answer?" Ciel said annoyed.

"It is tricky, but if you can not devise an answer, you need not worry. I will show you how to obtain it."

"Thirty-six," Renny suddenly said.

Lukas looked at him. "How on earth did you get that answer?"

Sebastian lightly gasped, blinking twice. "My word, he is correct."

"_Whaaaaat?_" Ciel and Lukas said in unison.

"How?" Ciel then said.

"I was always good in math," Renny said.

"But Sebastian said even some college and university students failed to get an answer," Lukas said. "How on earth did you instantly come up with an answer?"

"Care to explain your answer, Master Renfrew?" Sebastian said, gesturing to the chalkboard, handing Renny a piece of white chalk.

Renny stood and started. "The answer...to each question is in itself a teaser, which means, you must backtrack in order to come to the answer. Hence, in order to come to the answer: 4, the answer to the first question, you must ask yourself, _What numbers make 4?_ The simplest answer is..." He wrote as he spoke. "...2x2. But seeing 11x11 fools the mind. So, using 4 as a bases, 1+1=2 and 1+1=2, then multiply 2x2, and it makes 4."

"I think I understand," Lukas said. "Then you use that same principle for 2+2=4x4=16. So, using that: 3+3=6x6=36."

Ciel scratched his temple. "So, why is the question then written 11x11?" he asked.

"Because it is a mathematical teaser," Sebastian explained, as Renny went back to his seat. "It looks illogical and makes you believe it is unsolvable."

"It looks as such," Ciel said. "If it were merely 11x11, that would equal 44."

"Correct. However, the answer being merely just 4, it makes the mind think outside of the box, to say: _How can I get 4 with just what I have?_ In fact, the equation itself makes irrelevant sense and has no true bases in mathematics. The teaser is just devised to think alternatively. And Master Renfrew apparently has this gift, in a matter of speaking."

Ciel folded his arms across his chest. "Indeed. Well, he did render you unconscious for a time making you relive your past. Anyone who can incapacitate you definitely has an advantage. I would imagine nothing less than from a Phantomhive."

"I...may be good in math, cousin Ciel, but...I am not a good linguist like you or cousin Lukas. I can't speak German or French. Way back when, there was no need. English was and is my foremost language."

"Then this is where you must concentrate your studies," Sebastian said. "And I will help. However, as for rest of your studies, you are very well versed in chemistry, geography, history, and other important areas. Some of which even Master Ciel and Master Lukas lack in."

Ciel scowled. "Well, he _is_ quite older than either of us. In fact, much older than even my and Lukas's ages added together."

"True. Notwithstanding, he is working as a collective mind with young Johnny Lazarus now, and we have no way of knowing what _his_ intelligence was. He too could have been quite intelligent in these subjects as well."

"Does this make me a genius?"

Sebastian smiled crookedly. "Not quite, Master Renfrew. But you do have a gift."

Suddenly, a low muffled rumbling reverberated through the leather of the couch.

"Oh, Renny! Not in the here too?" Ciel chided.

Lukas waved a hand over his face. "He certainly _does_ have a gift. One I hope to _never_ master."

"Sorry, cousin Ciel, cousin Lukas. It must be all the excitement."

And Renny smiled.


	40. Special Short Story: Ghost Cat

_Kuroshitsuji / Black Butler, short story:_

_**"GHOST CAT"**_

"_Aaaaaa-choooooooo!"_

Ciel Phantomhive's continuous sneezing concerned Sebastian. It almost felt like the young master's allergies were acting up, but the Earl was only, truly exclusive, allergic to one thing: cats.

Sebastian favored the notion his master did not have knowledge of his horde of felines stockpiled in his private chambers. Regardless of this _blindness_ of sight unseen, a person's allergies tended to "notice" things the eyes were not privy to…

Ciel and Lukas Phantomhive sat in the Drawing Room. They were here to enjoy a moment of serenity and quiet on this Saturday after a week of strenuous work and affirmation within the _Funtom_ Cooperation. The company was expanding and announced to the media a partnership with the Von Strauss family leather and meat business. But the paperwork itself was a task and a half.

The late Erich Von Strauss, Thann and Spencer Von Strauss's father, apparently had a lot of creditors that needed to be paid off before the partnership could proceed, which unexpectedly, put the Von Strauss's in the red. Erich Von Strauss also had a lot of gambling debts that after his death the creditors came calling to collect from his sons.

Thann and Spencer Von Strauss didn't know this "secret life" their father lived and the Illuminati would not help, even though Thann and Spencer _both_ accepted their new positions within the Illuminati. Thann was now Sub-Head to Kyle Livingston of the British branch of the Illuminati, while Spencer was one of the main three lower facilitators that dealt with the many activities within this cult.

Both had many ideas in how to change the Illuminati for the greater good.

It took weeks to settle everything with the creditors. And with help from the Phantomhive's paying off most of the debts, the Von Strauss's now had a more eager reason to seal their business partnership with them. In fact, the Phantomhive's now owned 51% of the Von Strauss's business, which made them its true proprietor. But without the business merger, the Von Strauss's would have been finished, so it was unavoidable.

But Thann and Spencer were thankful for the help.

"_Aaaaaa-choooooooo!" _came another, longer sneeze, followed by Ciel blowing his nose with a handkerchief. Lukas looked equally as concerned as Sebastian, as the butler exchanged the used handkerchief, giving Ciel a fresh one.

Ciel then reached for his tea cup and took a sip. "I can't smell the tea," he said, then sniffed. Not to in an attempt to smell the Earl Grey, but to try to clear his nose.

Ciel sat in his usual "head of the family" chair that looked abreast of everything within the room. Lukas sat on a couch next to him. "Brother, what do you think is causing your allergies to flare up?"

"If I knew, I would eradicate the culprit," Ciel said snippish, his nose stuffed-up. He put down his tea and then blew his nose again.

"You don't have to stand on ceremony with me, brother. Something is obviously aggravating them, but there are no cats in the house. Well, not to my knowledge, anyhow." Lukas turned to Sebastian. "Sebastian, do _you_ know of any felines veiled from sight within the halls of the mansion?" He lifted an eyebrow.

It was common-knowledge to the family Sebastian had an unnatural fascination with cats. Lore and mythos had demons associated with cats as a demon creature. Plus, they were also known to side with witches and warlocks who practiced black magic in fantasy stories. But even Sebastian couldn't explain _his_ love of them. Only when he saw one, he fell head-over-heels and forgot everything that was going on around him.

Sebastian smiled thin. "No, I do not, my lord," he said courtly. "But I shall endeavor to find out."

"Also, please ask the rest of the servants to search for any feral cats that may have wandered onto the property. It is still winter, and they may have crawled into hovels in the foundation for warmth. Highly unlikely, but it may be plausible. If a demon can be a butler for humans, anything is _plausible_."

Sebastian smirked. "Indeed. I shall begin the search at once, Master Lukas."

"Oh, and one more thing. Can you locate Renny. I haven't seen him in quite some time. It is possible he may know something. As of late, has begun to establish a liking with cute, furry animals. Wildlife aside."

"Of course," Sebastian said, bowed, and then left.

Ciel began to sneeze, but it didn't come as fluent this time. "_Aaa-aaa-aaa…"_ Ciel stopped, his mouth frozen opened, his nose pinched up, his eyes closed. "_Chooooooooooooooooo!_" The sound was audibly loud and considerably messy. Ciel had neglected to position the handkerchief in time to his nose.

Lukas was disgusted as snot and moisture landed onto the table between them and into their tea cups. "S-sorry," Ciel said, blowing his nose.

"Not to worry, brother." Lukas proceeded to clean up the mess with one of number of fresh handkerchiefs Sebastian had set aside in preparation for Ciel's allergic sneezing fit. "Sebastian will find this mysterious trigger to your allergies. I promise."

Ciel looked at him, his left eye reddened with his allergies, his right eye hidden behind an eye patch that covered the demonic covenant between he and Sebastian. "I hope so. My fate is in his hands. And I dread the out-out-out… _Aaaaaaaaaa-chooooooooooooo!… _come."

With that sudden sneeze, Lukas unexpectedly became the target of its dispersal.

* * *

Renfrew Phantomhive's quarters was another converted visitor's room much like Lukas's. When Lukas came to stay at the mansion, Lukas was assigned a small chambers but later two rooms were merged as one to grant him a larger bedchambers and living space. But this hadn't happened for Renny yet, although planned. Plans needed to be drawn for such reconstruction of his room on the second floor of the mansion.

Ever since he became a member of the present family - now in the body of a boy named Johnny Lazarus, who had been used by the demon and long-time rival Decco, and youngest _off-spring_ of Sebastian in the distant past; Renfrew once a ghost, for accidentally killing himself when he attempted to threaten his own father to treat him better because Renfrew's father was a hostile drunk and would beat him daily - he came to live here. In fact, chronically, he was over 150 years old, but by appearance alone, his new physical appearance was age ten within this new body.

He had taken by a little while to become used to his new appearance, but he soon became okay with it. Besides, he couldn't change it anyhow. He had made the decision to merge his spirit with his new body. Now he had to live with it.

At first there was only his cousin Ciel, then he became reunited with Lukas after a seven-year separation regarding nefarious and sinister forces that kept them apart. Then through recent events of an almost, equal sadistic nature concerning demonic foreplay, _he_ was granted a second chance by a friend of Sebastian to live again. As his transition was pretty smooth and there were no complications, he regarded it as his redemption for helping his cousins in their greatest time of need.

He was told Reapers could not restore him to his previous life because he was blacklisted by God for committing "an unforgivable sin", namely a form of suicide when he accidentally killed himself. The gun he threatened himself with to demand his father treat him better went off accidentally in his chest. But by his wandering spiriting entering into the hollow empty shell of a body, of Johnny Lazarus - he now lived again!

Right now, he was face-first in his dressing wardrobe closet with his quarter's door closed but not locked. "Shhh, now you stay quiet," he said to something inside. "We can't let cousin Ciel know you're here. He won't allow it."

A knock suddenly came at his door and he frantically shut the wardrobe doors with a loud bang. Sebastian came into Renny's room. "Forgive me, Master Renfrew," he said. "I hope I am not intruding."

"In truth, yes you are, Sebastian," Renny said rather firmly. "I was busy."

"I _am_ sorry, Master Renfrew. It was just Master Ciel and Master Lukas haven't seen you much today and they were wondering what you have been doing. I wondered perhaps you have walked about and gotten lost. This is a very big mansion, and someone new to it may lose their way."

"Indeed. But I believe I know my way about, Sebastian. Before my _rebirth_, so to speak, and the evils of Decco, I used to follow cousin Lukas about. So, I believe I have a firm grasp of the hallways and corridors and basement of this mansion."

"Very good. I am aware you _are_ a quick study - "

_Meooow._

Renny gasped.

Sebastian lifted an eye brow and looked towards the wardrobe closet standing tall on the wall. "What was that?"

"Ahhh…nothing," Renny said too quickly. "Just your imagination." Then smiled nervously.

"If it were just _my_ imagination, then you wouldn't have heard it also."

"Heard what?"

_Meooow._

Renny snapped his attention to the wardrobe closet.

Sebastian sighed, then opened the closet. "Master Renfrew, if this is what I think it is…" But to Sebastian's surprise the wardrobe was empty except for clothes, even after a thorough search. "I could've sworn I heard a…"

Renny smiled, almost relieved. "It was your imagination."

"You do know Master Ciel is allergic to cats of any nature," Sebastian said.

"I do know this, but there are no cats _here_," Renny said with a broader smile.

"I see," Sebastian said skeptically. "Master Ciel has been profusely sneezing as of an hour ago."

"Is he alright?"

"He should be once the culprit is caught."

"Have you searched _your_ room, Sebastian? For any 'culprits'?

Sebastian eyed him suspiciously. "I assure you, Master Renfrew, I am not hoarding any cats in my room."

"I didn't ask of you were _hoarding_ any cats." Renfrew's brows pushed up suspiciously. "I wouldn't accuse you of anything of the sort."

"Indeed."

"Please tell cousin Ciel and cousin Lukas that I will down shortly," Renny then said.

"Very good." Sebastian then mumbled as he left, "I could've sworn I heard a _meow_."

Renny closed the door. "He's gone."

He opened the wardrobe doors and looked inside. Suddenly a blue translucent form of a grayish cat appeared. It meowed and then purred affectionately as Renfrew seemingly petted it.

"I don't believe cousin Ciel is affected by you," he wondered, "but I can't say for sure. Maybe his allergies of cats is also of the mind and somehow he _knows_ you're here? But I don't think allergies act that way."

Renny thought for a moment and then shook his head, then the cat shook its head as if answering as well. He had known the cat for sometime and knew it was very intelligent.

"I still can't believe you found me _here_ and after all this time." He smiled. "I've missed you very much."

* * *

Sebastian stood outside Renfrew's room listening with a keen ear. He could hear the young master talking to _someone_, and sensed _something_ in the room with him. It didn't feel malicious, but it did feel otherworldly. And then he thought, Renfrew had been a ghost for many years, perhaps throughout that time, he had made a few "friends". This was not bad, but friends that said _meow_?

If Renfrew had a cat in the room with him, Sebastian would have sensed it.

"_SEBASTIANNNNNN!_" came a loud, desperate voice from the main floor. It was Lukas.

He made haste to the Drawing Room where he had last seen the young lord and hurried inside. Here, he observed Master Lukas on his knees with Ciel on the floor. Ciel had collapsed, his breathing wheezy.

"What has happened?" he demanded.

Lukas shook his head. "I think his allergies have taken a turn for the worse," he expressed scared. Ciel was sweating and his heart was beating rapidly.

Sebastian went to Ciel and picked him up. "We must get him to his bed and then call a doctor. This is reminiscent of when he suffered a severe bout of asthma just last year."

"Do we have any of his medicine?"

"No, it has all recently expired. But after I put Master Ciel to bed I will immediately go into town. I know a good pharmacist and I will gather the proper medicine."

As they traveled upstairs, Lukas said, "Can't you just _make_ him better with your powers?"

"It doesn't work that way, Master Lukas," Sebastian said, climbing the main staircase with Ciel laying limpless in his arms, Lukas next to him. Their pace was hurried. "Through the years, I have learned certain chemical reactions in the human body help other reactions. Therefore, if you eliminate one, another one will take its place, perhaps even worse. The human body must make its own balance."

Sebastian carried Ciel down the hallway, Lukas then opened Ciel's chambers for Sebastian, and soon the butler lain Ciel on his bed. However, Ciel appeared now to be breathing normally and he was no longer sweating. His heart rate had even returned to normal.

Ciel then opened his eyes. He looked at both Lukas and Sebastian in turn. "What is going on? Why am I in my chambers and on my bed?"

"You collapsed, brother. Sebastian brought you up here. But…you seem fine now, not affected by your allergies." Lukas eyed Sebastian suspiciously. "Sebastian please don't tell you brought a cat into the mansion and are hiding it?" This time demanding the truth.

But before Sebastian could answer, Renny burst into Ciel's bedchambers. "Is cousin Ciel alright? I heard a scream, then hurried footsteps." He looked downcast and guilty. "It _is_ cousin Ciel's allergies, isn't it? I'm sorry. I didn't think he would trigger them. He's a ghost cat."

"Ghost cat?" Ciel, Lukas and Sebastian said in unison.

Suddenly the cat, translucent in blue, much like when Renfrew was when they first encountered him in the mansion, strolled casually into the room. Ciel looked nervous, but he didn't sneeze. In fact, the ghost cat, even when it "hoped" onto the bed, didn't trigger any allergic reaction from Ciel at all. Ciel moved away.

"I thought you were acting oddly, Master Renfrew," Sebastian said. "Please explain."

"There is nothing truly to explain. When I was a ghost, I found him. Or rather, became _reacquainted_ with him. He is my cat from when I was alive. He must have sense me here and came calling."

"How can a ghost cat sense you were here?" Ciel asked, a little less nervous.

"I suppose with a strong enough bond, even death is no barrier."

Ciel sighed. "Despite unusual, then there is something _else_ triggering my allergies in the mansion." He gave a brief sideways glance to Sebastian. "However, I believe it only resides in the Drawing Room."

"Cat fur?" Lukas offered.

"Summon the servants. Have them search the Drawing Room, then have them clean it _thoroughly_," Ciel ordered. He looked at the ghost cat, the cat looked at him, then it smiled friendly. He didn't necessarily dislike cats, only that they triggered his allergies. "In the meantime, keep _him_ away from me."

Renfrew gave a whistle. It was like a command, and the ghost cat then jumped off the bed and went to him. It then turned itself solid-like and sat next to Renfrew courtly. Renfrew pet it like a 'live' cat.

* * *

The servants searched the Drawing Room thoroughly, but nothing that looked anything like cat fur or in fact any dirt resided. Sebastian always kept every room immaculately clean, it was a testament to his duties. But Ciel remained out in the hallway as everyone else continued to search for _something_, anything that was triggering Ciel's allergies, as _something_ inside was.

An access panel was opened up in the floor. Every room had one. It was for easy entry to the plumbing or wiring that ran throughout the mansion hidden in the floor or in the walls. Inside were small crawl-ways that an average-size person could fit. Finny volunteered to go into this one, and almost immediately a rank smell began to fill the Drawing Room, like something had died.

"Found it!" Finny's voice came from the crawl-way and he pulled out a dead cat. More than just dead, partially decayed. "Looks like it's been here for weeks."

"_Pewwww!_" Bardroy said, holding his nose like everyone else was.

"But why did Ciel only begin sneezing today if it appears it has been down there for weeks?" Lukas said.

Sebastian stepped forward, providing a plastic bag for the dead feline to be inserted. Then tied it. "I believe it may have been my doing, Master Lukas. During the spring and summer seasons, I daily bring in cut flowers so the room smells pleasant. With the autumn and winter seasons, I make do with scented candles. However, I think with the recent thaw, the cat's decay increased and Master Ciel was able to smell it."

"So I was correct, a feral cat _did_ find a way into the crawlways and then became trapped."

"That appears to be the case," Sebastian replied.

"Poor cat," Mey-Rin said. "Died of starvation, I think it did."

"Indeed."

Finny took the plastic bag from Sebastian and left the room to dispose of it.

"_Aaa-choo!_" Ciel sounded.

Lukas brought him in and explained things.

"A dead cat in the crawlways, you say? Oh." Ciel actually sounded sympathetic. "Clean the room thoroughly, including the crawl-way," he ordered.

"It shall be done at once, my lord," Sebastian said.

* * *

An hour later, they were all in the Sitting Room. The ghost cat was with them. And Ciel was finally able to enjoy a cup of tea without a sneezing fit. He sat in a single chair separate from the rest of the furniture as "head of the household". Sebastian stood at his side.

Renny was sitting on a couch with the cat curled up next to him. It was solid-like and he was petting it. It purred from the affection.

"How on earth can it do that?" Lukas asked, sitting across from Renny on another couch. "One moment, it can walk through walls and then the next it looks like a solid animal. And you can pet it?"

"I was able to look _normal_ when I was a ghost, but I didn't care for it," Renny said. "Ghosts can become solid when deemed, but not for very long. It exhausts a lot energy."

"You can't keep it," Ciel said, returning his cup to the saucer he held.

"But he's my pet," Renny whined. "And I won't abandon him just because _I'm_ human again!"

"I don't see any harm in it," Lukas said, half-agreeing. "The ghost cat doesn't affect your allergies, brother."

"No harm?" Ciel protested. "It's a ghost cat!"

"And Sebastian is a _demon_ butler," Lukas retorted. "However, a ghost cat wandering the halls may not be surreptitious and it might scare the servants." He shrugged. "But how can we stop it?"

Ciel scowled. "How indeed. Cats _do_ have a mind of their own, and I very much doubt it will just _go away _on its own. Very well. But he will be _your_ responsibility, Renny."

Renny smiled gleefully. "You won't regret this decision, cousin Ciel," he said. "And he does know how to be discreet." He looked at Sebastian. "Well, most of the time."

"What's his name?" Lukas asked.

"Vincent."

Ciel gasped. "You named your cat after my father?"

"_Our_ father, brother," Lukas corrected him.

"Forgive me. _Our_ father."

"I already named him before _your_ father was even born," Renny said.

"Did he commit an unforgivable sin as well?" Ciel joked dryly, albeit sounding in bad taste.

"That's cruel, brother. You were never one for _good_ humor."

Ciel rolled his eyes. "Why is your cat a ghost?"

"I suppose…we are inseparable. When I died, Vincent was still alive."

"He looks young," Lukas observed. "He doesn't look like he died of old age."

"I think he died of a broken-heart?" Renny looked at Vincent, who purred at his touch.

"Oh, please! This is intolerable," Ciel said.

"Animals do that to!" Renny said. "Just like humans. When a person loses someone they really love and care for, they sometimes can't live without them. So, they just…pass-on. I'm in a different body, but he knows it's me. He honed in on my spirit."

Ciel rolled his eyes again in disbelief, then took a sip of his tea.

"Well, one more lost soul to add to our growing family, I say," Sebastian said, almost with travesty. Ciel was a loner, but now he had a fraternal brother, a long distant cousin; once a ghost but now in the body of an enemy; and now a ghost cat as a family pet, who will now wander the mansion halls and for which, ironically, did not trigger his allergy to cats - and all of them Phantomhive's.

If Sebastian didn't see it becoming more work for him in the future, he would have laughed.

"Quite," Ciel said. "The more the merrier indeed." Then he sighed, weary of it.

**THE END.**


End file.
